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I 


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s.ni-npjDSEnS)  ©AB'.#fliraP 


THE  REV.  ELE/1ZHR  WILLIAMS. 


TWO  ERAS  OF  FRANCE, 

m  7 

OR, 

TRUE  STORIES 


FROM  HISTORY. 


B  Y 

HUGH  DE  NORMAN  D. 


AUBURN: 

ALDEN,  BEARDSLEY  &  CO. 

ROCHESTER: 

WANZER,  BEARDSLEY  *  CO. 

1854, 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1854,  by 
ALONZO  G.  BEARDSLEY, 

In  the  Clerk’s  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  for  the 
Northern  District  of  New  York. 


STEREOTYPED  BY 

THOMAS  B.  SMITH, 
216  William  St. 


w 

XH3 


N  selecting  for  our  Stories  the  two  periods  in  the 


Annals  of  France  —  The  Massacre  of  St.  Bar¬ 
tholomew,  and  The  Revolution  of  1789 — we  have 
fallen  upon  a  portion  of  history  confessedly  of  remark¬ 
able  and  intense  interest  as  well  to  the  general  reader 
as  to  the  scholar.  And  although  the  story  —  of  the 
Revolution,  especially  —  has  often  been  told,  under 
various  forms  of  narrative  and  biography,  yet  I  believe 
it  will  bear  repetition. 

As  regards  that  interesting  historic  question — the 
death  of  Louis  XVII.  in  the  Tower  of  the  Temple,  and 
the  claims  of  Mr.  Williams  to  identity  with  that 
personage,  I  have  endeavored  to  state  fairly,  and  as 
fully  as  my  limits  would  allow,  the  arguments  which 
have  a  bearing  upon  either  side.  This  evidence,  of 
course,  is  circumstantial,  and  requires  to  be  examined 


VI 


PREFACE. 


and  weighed  with  prudence  and  fairness.  As  a  mere 
historical  question,  aside  from  the  claims  of  justice 
and  right,  it  is  worthy  of  such  examination.  To  the 
labors  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hanson  we  are  entirely  indebted 
for  the  information  we  have  on  this  subject,  and  his 
recent  work,  in  which  he  deals  with  facts  which  go  to 
prove  the  identity  of  Mr.  Williams  and  the  Dauphin,  is 
replete  with  the  highest  interest. 


March,  1854. 


H.  DE  N. 


Contents. 


PAET  I. 

THE  MASSACRE  OF  ST.  BARTHOLOMEW. 


CHAPTER  I. 


Catherine  and  Charles. 

MM 

Gynocracy  and  the  Salic  Law — Catherine  de  Medicis — Charles- 
Two  Religious  Parties,  the  Huguenots  and  Papists — Schemes 
against  the  Protestants — The  time  chosen . 19 


CHAPTER  II. 

The  Huguenots  at  Court. 

The  King  and  Admiral  Coligny — The  Protestants  resort  to  Paris — 
Death  of  the  Queen  of  Navarre — The  Espousals — The  Marriage 
at  Notre  Dame — The  Mask  at  the  Hotel  de  Bourbon — Rumors 
and  Suspicions — the  King’s  Dissimulation — The  Faith  of  the 
Queen . 27 


CHAPTER  III. 

Attempted  Assassination. 

Tranquillity  of  the  Huguenots — Conspiracy  against  the  Admiral — 

He  is  wounded — The  Assassin  escapes — The  King’s  indigna¬ 
tion  at  the  attempted  assassination — Charles  visits  Coligny — 
Their  interview . 96 


5A3  ft 


Contents. 


viii 


CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Massacre  Begins. 

paotf 

The  Huguenots  safely  quartered  and  protected — Military  arrange¬ 
ments — Comprehensive  plan  of  Murder — The  Duke  of  Guise 
and  the  Soldiers — The  signal  and  the  Badge — Perplesity.and 
Alarm — The  Midnight  Tocsin — The  City  is  illuminated,  and 
the  Massacre  begins  ......  r  „  .  47 


CHAPTER  V. 

The  Murder  of  Coligny. 

Cosseius  and  the  Duke  of  Guise— The  Admiral’s  house  entered — 
Beme — Coligny  is  murdered — The  Duke  of  Guise’s  indigni¬ 
ties — The  Populace — The  embalmed  Head  of  the  Admiral — His 
Body  at  Montfaucon — Charles  and  Catherine  .  .  .  .58 


CHAPTER  VI. 

The  Massacre  Goes  on. 

Blood  at  the  Louvre— Queen  Margaret — Henry  and  the  Prince  of 
Condd — The  signal  from  the  Palais  de  Justice — The  Massacre 
becomes  general — Private  Vengeance — The  Seir  e  flows  with  its 
burden  of  the  Dead — De  Thou’s  Description  .  .  .  .64 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Individual  Victims. 

Teligny,  the  son-in-law  of  Admiral  Coligny — He  escapes  for  a 
time,  but  is  finally  slain — Peter  Damns — Jacques  Charpentier — 
Sieur  de  Guerchy — Taveroy  and  his  sister — Insane  Cruelties — 
Six  hundred  Houses  pillaged — The  Faubourg  St.  Germain — 


Contents. 


IX 


Bash  confidence  in  the.JOng — Many  escape — The  King’s  Proc¬ 
lamation — l^he  Slaughter  renewed  the  next  day — The  Massacre 
in  the  Provinces — The  Plea  of  Self-Defence — Cavagnes  and 
Briqueinaut — Their  Execution  witnessed  by  Charles  and  his 
Mother . 71 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Incidents  of  the  Massacre. 

Aspect  of  the  City — Coligny’s  Blood — The  number  of  the  Vic¬ 
tims — Charles — Henry  and  the  Prince  of  Cond4 — The  army  of 
the  Huguenots — Bethune — The  use  of  the  Breviary — L’Hospi- 
tal — Ambrose  Parf — His  reply  to  the  King  .  .  .  .83 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Philip  de  Mornay. 

A  Leader  of  the  Huguenot  Party — His  apprehension — Protected 
by  his  landlord — The  Attorney  Girard — The  Porte  St.  Denis — 

La  Vilette — Expedients  for  Escape — From  Chantilly  to  Nor¬ 
mandy — Safety  in  England . 93 


CHAPTER  X. 

Madame  de  Fedqueres. 

Her  previous  history — The  Bishop  of  Senlis — An  asylum  for  hor 
child — Concealment — A  Captain  of  the  Watch — She  refuses  to 
go  to  Mass — M.  de  Voisenon — She  escapes  in  a  boat — Safe  at 
the  Chancellor’s — At  Eprunes — Her  Brother — Her  marriage 
with  De  Mornay . 104 


X 


Contents. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

The  Escape  of  Marshal  de  la  Force. 

paoe 

The  Faubourg  St.  Germain — The  Father  of  the  Marshal — The 
Ransom — The  Murder  of  the  Father  and  Brother — The  Escape 
— Admission  to  the  Arsenal — His  death  at  the  age  of  ninety- 
four  . 115 


CHAPTER  XII. 

The  St.  Bartholomew  Ends. 

The  Designs  of  these  individual  narratives — The  Enormity  of 
the  Massacre — What  this  History  illustrates  ....  122 


PART  II. 

THE  REVOLUTION  OF  1789. 

CHAPTER  I 

Causes  and  First  Steps  of  the  Revolution. 

The  Reigns  of  Louis  XV.  and  Louis  XVI. — Other  Causes — A 
Free  Press — Proiligacy  of  the  Court — Irreligion  and  Dissolute¬ 
ness — The  infamous  Dubois — Pecuniary  Embarrassments — 
Assembly  of  Notables — States-General — Tiers-Etat — The  first 
day  of  the  Revolution — Popular  sympathy  with  the  National 
Assembly — A  Mob  in  the  Faubourgs — Necker  and  the  Three 
Days  of  July — Destruction  of  the  Bastille . 127 


Contents. 


xi 


CHAPTER  II. 


The  Revolution  Begun. 

page 

The  Effect  of  Popular  Commotion — Feudalism — August  and  Sep¬ 
tember — Versailles — The  Mob  at  Versailles — La  Fayette  and 
the  National  Guards — The  King  goes  to  Paris — Decrees  of  the 
Assembly — The  Clubs — The  Jacobins — The  King  wishes  to  go 
to  St.  Cloud — The  Koval  Family  attempt  escape — The  King 
arrested — The  Girondists — The  Legislative  Assembly — The 
Count  d’Artois  and  the  Emigres — The  Royal  Family  sent  to 
the  Temple — Slaughter  of  the  Three  Days — The  Convention — 

The  Mountain — England — La  Vendee — The  Reign  of  Terror — 

The  New  Era  of  the  Republic . 140 


CHAPTER  III. 

The  Republic. 

The  horrors  thicken — Lyons-Marie  Antoinette — Egalit4— Chris¬ 
tianity  abolished — Robespierre — Decree  to  restore  the  doctrine 
of  God  and  immortality — The  Princess  Elizabeth — Robespierre 
sent  to  the  Guillotine— The  Recoil— The  Committees  of  Public 
Safety  and  Security  restrained— The  Course  of  the  Legislature 
— New  Constitution — Napoleon — His  Return  from  Egypt — 
Monarchy,  in  effect,  restored — First  Consul  ....  161 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Attempted  Escape  of  the  Royal  Family. 

The  King  a  Prisoner— Preparations  for  Flight— Marquis  de  Bou- 
ilR — Indecision  and  Delay— Disguised  for  Escape— The  Queen 
loses  her  way — At  last  under  way — They  encounter  delay — The 
Duke  de  Choiseul . . 


Contents. 


xii 


CHAPTER  Y. 

The  Capture  and  the  Eeturn. 

PAGE 

The  Fugiti  es — At.  Varennes — Delay  and  Apprehension — De¬ 
mand  of  passports — Alarm  given — The  Inhabitants  and  the 
National  Guard  aroused — The  King  appeals  to  his  captors — 
They  are  moved  by  his  distress — The  Wife  of  the  Mayor — The 
long  night — Their  flight  discovered  at  Paris — The  commotion 
there — Couriers  despatched — The  Eoyal  Family  return — The 
National  Assembly  provide  for  their  reception  and  safe-keep¬ 
ing — The  New  Constitution — Vive  le  Eoi . 191 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Louis  XVI. — Present  Evtls  and  Impending  Perils. 

The  Eoyal  Family  closely  guarded — State  of  the  City — Assault 
upon  the  Tuileries— Madame  Elizabeth — The  Queen  and  her 
children — The  action  of  the  Assembly — The  Marseillais — The 
Marseillais  Hymn . 208 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Louis  XVI. — Imprisonment  and  Execution. 

The  Bishop  of  Lyons  attempts  to  reconcile  parties — Joy  to  the 
Eoyal  Household — Fete  in  the  Champ  de  Mars — The  tide  gath¬ 
ers  strength — The  Military  forces  collect  at  the  Tuileries — The 
Eoyal  Family  take  refuge  in  the  Hall  of  the  Assembly — Scenes 
at  the  Palace — The  Swiss  Guard — Massacre  of  the  Guard  and 
Servants — The  Eoyal  Family  sent  to  the  Temple — Trial  of  the 
King — His  Condemnation — Preparation  for  Death — The  last 
Interview — The  Execution  . 228 


Contents. 


xiii 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Marie  Antoinette,  Madame  Elizabeth,  and  the  Royal  Children. 

PAGE 

The  Queen’s  Marriage — Her  Beauty — She  is  hated  and  maligned 
— At  the  Tuileries  and  in  the  Temple — Her  anguish  at  the 
death  of  Louis — Cruelties — Removal  to  the  Conciergerie — Her 
Trial  and  Execution . 245 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Marie  Antoinette,  Madame  Elizabeth,  and  the  Royal  Children, 
in  the  Temple. 

The  Princess  Elizabeth,  her  beauty  and  her  character — Her  care 
of  the  Princess  Royal — She  is  apprehended  and  conducted  to 
the  Conciergerie — Her  Trial — Her  Execution — Maria  Theresa — 

Her  Release — Subsequent  History  and  Death — The  Dauphin — 

M.  de  Beauehesne — Rev.  Eleazar  Williams — Sufferings  of  the 
Royal  Family  in  the  Temple — The  Commune — Official  Decrees 
and  Cruel  Severities . 266 


CHAPTER  X. 

Marie  Antoinette,  Madame  Elizabeth,  and  the  Royal  Children, 
in  the  Temple. 

Louis  XVII.  as  King — The  Family  in  Mourning — Tison — New 
Commissaries — The  woman  Tison  becomes  insane— The  Dau¬ 
phin  falls  sick — He  is  separated  from  his  mother— Beaucliesne’s 
account  of  the  scene  of  the  separation — Simon  and  his  Wife — 

His  degrading  position — Madame  Simon  more  humane — His 
Demoralization — Cruelties — The  Simons  leave  the  Temple — 

The  Duchesse  d’Angoulemc’s  account  of  his  condition — New 
Keepers — His  final  sickness  and  Death . 273 


XIV 


Contents. 


chapter  XI. 


The  Dauphin  not  Dead. 

page 

De  Quincey’s  views  of  the  Bourbon  Question — Louis  XVII.  did 
not  die  in  the  Temple — The  action  of  the  Convention  and  their 
secret  treaty  with  Charette — The  Duke  de  Provence — His 
Agents  about  the  Temple — Desault — The  idiocy  of  the  Dauphin 
— Desault  supposed  to  be  poisoned — M.  ^ellanger — Change  in 
the  appearance  and  mind  of  the  child — June  8th — An  Escape 
from  the  Temple,  and  arrests  ordered — No  Funeral  Honors 
paid  to  the  Dauphin — Monument  and  Epitaph  ordered — The 
Duchesse  d’  Angouleme  believed  him  living — Mrs.  Brown’s  tes¬ 
timony . 294 


CHAPTER  XII. 

The  Dauphin  brought  to  America. — Eleazar  Williams. 

Putnam’s  Monthly — Arl'ival  at  Albany — Monsieur  Louis — Lake 
George — The  Royal  Family — The  Duchesse  d’ Angouleme — Bel- 
langer — The  Prince  de  Joinville’s  disclosures  to  Mr.  Williams 
—Mrs.  Brown’s  testimony — Mr.  George  Sumner — Mrs.  Wil¬ 
liams’  affidavit — Marks  of  Person — Chevalier  Fagnani’s  testi¬ 
mony — Other  Marks  and  Tokens . 312 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Charlotte  Cordat. 

Marat — His  S«lf-Estimate — Ami  du  Peuple — His  True  Character 
— The  Republic  in  danger — Caen — The  Girondists— Rouen — 

M.  Corday — Charlotte — Death  of  her  Mother — She  enters  a 
Convent — Her  manner  of  life — Monasteries  suppressed — Char¬ 
lotte  goes  to  reside  with  Madame  de  Bretteville  at  Caen — Her 
life  there — Development  of  character — Resolutions — Personal 
appearance . 828 


Contents. 


XV 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


Charlotte  Cordat. — Death  oy  Marat. 

PAGE 

The  Girondists  in  Normandy — Frauqnelin — Plans  of  Charlotte 
Corday — She  leaves  Caen  and  goes  to  Paris — Her  journey — 
Hotel  de  la  Providence  —  M.  Duperret  —  Charlotte  writes  to 
Marat — She  goes  to  his  lodgings — Albertine  and  his  household 
— She  succeeds  in  gaining  admittance — Marat  in  his  bath — His 
Murder — The  arrest  and  examination  of  Charlotte — Her  Trial 
and  Execution . 348 


PART  I. 


Clif  Massacre  of  St.  Itartfjolometo, 


4 


I. 

6at(uniu  gnb  CJsrlM. 

HI  HOUGH  the  throne  of  France  has  never  been 
filled  by  a  female,  the  government  of  that 
country  has  perhaps  been  as  frequently,  and  as 
thoroughly,  for  a  time,  what,  writers  on  the 
constitutions  of  States  call  a  Oynocracy ,  as  that 
of  any  other  kingdom  in  Europe.  Queens,  queen- 
mothers,  and  royal  mistresses,  have  repeatedly 
proved  too  strong  for  the  Salic  Law  ;  and  without 
actually  wearing  on  their  brow  “  the  round  and 
top  of  sovereignty,”  have  exercised,  sometimes 
almost  openly,  its  fullest  prerogatives.  At  the 
period  of  which  we  are  now  about  to  speak — the 
year  1572 — the  actual  ruler  of  France  was  the 
celebrated  Catherine  de  Medicis,  the  widow  of 
Henry  II.,  and  the  mother  of  the  reigning  king, 


20  True  Stories  from  History. 

Charles  IX.  The  spirit  of  ambition  has  rarely 
possessed  any  bosom  more  completely  than  it  did 
*  that  of  this  remarkable  woman.  Unrestrained  either 
by  religion  or  humanity- —despising  alike  the  law 
of  God  and  the  opinion  of  man — she  was  well 
fitted  to  move  forward  in  the  pursuit  of  her  pur¬ 
poses  with  the  reckless  and  unshrinking  audacity 
which  their  nature  demanded,  and  to  brook 
neither  obstacle  nor  competition  in  her  path.  If 
she  had  one  weak  point  of  character,  and  was  even 
more  than  the  generality  of  her  contemporaries 
the  slave  of  the  popular  superstitions  of  her  age, 
her  deference  to  the  imaginary  intimations  of  the 
stars  was  in  no  degree  calculated  to  withhold  her 
from  any  really  wicked  course,  although  it  might 
sometimes  make  her  fly  from  dangers  of  its  own 
creation.  Indeed,  in  thus  scaring  her  with  merely 
visionary  terrors,  it  was  likely  only  to  plunge  her 
deeper  into  crime  than  she  might  otherwise  have 
fallen.  Of  crimes  of  a  certain  character  there  is  no 
other  of  the  passions  which  is  so  fruitful  a  master 
as  Fear.  Catherine,  too,  if  not  endowed  in  any 


Catherine  and  Charles. 


21 


surpassing  degree  with,  general  talent,  was  an 
Italian  not  more  in  blood  and  lineage  than  in  the 
subtlety  and  wiliness  which  have  been  supposed, 
in  modern  times,  to  characterize  her  countrymen ; 
and  young  as  she  was,  only  fourteen,  when  she 
left  her  native  land,  she  seems  to  have  brought 
away  with  her  from  her  earliest  instructors  no 
small  share  of  that  art  of  intrigue  and  skill  in 
political  stratagem,  for  which  the  minor  courts  of 
Italy  had  long  been  famous.  Charles  himself 
inherited  much  of  the  ability  of  his  mother  ;  but 
this  bad  woman,  with  the  view  to  secure  the  more 
completely  her  own  domination,  had  taken  pains 
to  surround  her  son,  from  the  moment  he  became 
king  (which  he  did  when  only  a  child  of  ten  years 
of  age,  by  the  death  of  his  elder  brother,  Francis 
II.)  with  every  seduction  most  suited  to  corrupt 
and  enfeeble  his  mind,  and  to  pervert  the  bounty 
of  nature.  She  did  not  altogether  succeed  in  this 
design  ;  for,  despite  of  his  disadvantages  of  train¬ 
ing,  Charles,  when  he  reached  manhood,  displayed 
decidedly  superior  talents,  even  of  a  literary  kind  : 


22  Tkue  Stokies  from  History. 

as  may  be  seen  from  some  of  bis  compositions, 
both  in  prose  and  verse,  Avbicb  are  still  extant. 
But  the  influences  to  which  he  was  exposed  seem 
to  have  nearly  stifled  whatever  had  been  originally 
good  in  his  moral  nature,  and  to  have  operated 
with  all  the  intended  effect,  in  giving  preternatural 
expansion  and  growth  to  the  seeds  it  contained  of 
vice  and  weakness.  This  victim  of  a  mother’s 
heartlessness  and  selfish  ambition  manifested,  as  he 
advanced  in  years,  a  character  and  disposition 
which  fitted  him  to  be  partly  that  mother’s  instru¬ 
ment,  and  partly  her  coadjutor.  Catherine’s  res¬ 
oluteness  and  stern  inflexibility  of  purpose  had 
degenerated  in  Charles  into  mere  obstinacy  and 
waywardness  ;  and  when  she  proceeded  to  her  end 
with  a  cool,  single-eyed,  invincible  determination, 
he  was  only  headstrong,  precipitate,  and  driven 
forward  by  the  caprice  of  the  moment,  to  be  im¬ 
mediately  driven  back  as  far,  perhaps,  by  an  op¬ 
posite  gust  of  temper  or  inclination.  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  making  allowance  for  his  youth  and 
comparative  inexperience — for  he  was  as  yet  only 


Catherine  and  Charles. 


2  3 


twenty-two — liis  capacity  for  perfidy  and  dissimu¬ 
lation  was  scarcely  inferior  to  lier  own ;  and  his 
indifference  to  the  sufferings  of  ethers,  in  the  pur¬ 
suit  of  his  own  gratifications,  equally  hardened. 
Without  any  of  his  mother’s  nerve,  or  as  some 
may  call  it,  strength  of  character,  in  treachery,  in 
•cruelty,  in  selfishness,  in  all  that  constituted  the 
mere  baseness  of  her  nature,  he  was  the  worthy 
son  of  such  a  parent. 

Such  were  the  hands  that  held  the  royal  author¬ 
ity.  Meanwhile,  the  country  was  kept  in  a  state 
■of  distraction,  breaking  out  occasionally  into  open 
warfare,  by  the  enmity  of  the  two  great  religious 
parties  into  which  the  people  were  divided.  At 
the  head  of  the  adherents  of  the  ancient  faith  were 
the  Duke  of  Guise  and  his  brother,  the  Cardinal 
of  Lorraine,  who  were  nearly  connected  with  the 
royal  family  by  the  marriage  of  their  niece,  Mary 
of  Scotland,  with  the  late  King,  Francis  II.  The 
chiefs  of  highest  rank  among  the  Huguenots,  or 
Protestants,  were  the  two  young  princes  of  the 
blood,  Henry,  King  of  Navarre,  and  the  Prince  of 


24  True  Stories  from  History, 

Conde.  The  main  stay  of  the  party,  however,  and 
the  individual  who  principally  directed  it,  both  by 
his  councils  and  his  popular  influence,  was  the 
able,  brave,  and  virtuous  Coligny,  or,  as  he  was 
generally  called  in  his  own  day,  the  Admiral  of 
Chatillon.  Of  the  mass  of  the  population  the  im¬ 
mense  majority  were  Papists,  but  still  the  Protest¬ 
ants  formed  also  a  very  numerous  and  powerful 
body ;  and,  although  the  recent  battles  of  Jarnac 
and  Montcontour,  in  both  which  they  had  been 
beaten  by  the  King’s  brother,  the  Duke  of  Anjou, 
had  for  the  present  somewhat  broken  their 
strength,  the  energy  natural  to  a  new  and  aggress¬ 
ive  party  was  not  likely  to  allow  them  to  remain 
long  depressed  under  the  effects  of  their  disasters. 
The  peace  concluded  in  August,  1570,*  had  put  a 
stop,  for  the  moment,  to  the  active  hostilities  of  the 
two  parties,  rather  than  united  them,  or  composed 
their  difficulties. 

Affairs  were  in  this  state  when  the  Queen- 
mother  resolved  to  strike  a  bold  and  decisive  blow 

*  Called  La  paix  boitev.se — the  lame  peace. 


Catherine  and  Charles. 


25 


for  the  consolidation  of  her  authority.  She  had 
hitherto  succeeded,  by  management,  in  preserving 
her  position  at  the  head  of  affairs,  but  the  suprem¬ 
acy  she  was  enabled  to  maintain  was  far  from 
the  full  and  unfettered  dictatorship  to  which  her 
ambition  aspired.  Mistress  of  the  State  as  she  was, 
she  had  yet  been  obliged  to  share  too  much  of  her 
power  with  those  under  whose  protection,  as  it 
were,  she  held  it,  and  who,  by  merely  withdraw¬ 
ing  their  aid  and  support,  could,  at  any  moment 
they  chose,  leave  her  in  the  hands  of  another  fac¬ 
tion  just  as  little  disposed  to  allow  her  the  exercise 
of  an  unparticipated  sovereignty.  Tired  of  this 
imperfect  and  precarious  sway ,  Catherine  appears 
to  have  resolved  upon  the  adoption  of  a  new 
policy.  Instead  of  longer  employing  the  two 
hostile  parties  to  balance  each  other,  she  now 
determined  to  avail  herself  of  the  assistance  of  the 
one  to  effect,  once  for  all,  the  extermination  and 
destruction  of  the  other.  In  carrying  this  deep 
and  daring  scheme  into  execution,  she  was  in¬ 
fluenced,  moreover,  by  her  religious  opinions.  A 


26  True  Stories  from  History, 

bigoted  adherent  of  the  Papacy,  she  was  taught  to 
believe  that  she  would  be  doing  God  service  by 
the  destruction  of  the  new  faith.  Intolerance  and 
the  spirit  of  persecution  aided  her  political  schemes, 
and  she  resolved  to  immolate  the  enemies  of  her 
faith  to  her  ferocious  and  devouring  ambition. 

The  occasion  which  Catherine  determimed  to 
seize  upon  for  the  perpetration  of  her  diabolical 
design,  was  one  singularly  calculated  to  deepen 
the  revolting  character  of  the  tragedy  about  to  be 
enacted.  To  crown  and  consummate,  as  it  was 
pretended,  the  reconcilement  of  the  two  religions, 
the  Court  had  proposed  that  a  marriage  should 
take  place  between  Charles1  sister,  Margaret,  and 
Henry  of  Navarre.  There  is  too  much  reason  to 
conclude  that  Catherine  and  her  son  had,  from 
the  first,  suggested  this  union  with  no  other  object 
than  that  of  drowning  the  day  of  its  celebration  in 
the  blood  of  their  unsuspecting  subjects. 


II. 


©t*  JjupMts  at  fart,  anfo  the  Itarriagf. 


Tjl  VERY  expedient  was  now  resorted  to  in  order 
to  make  the  Protestants  forget  their  ancient 
jealousy  of  the  Court,  and  to  lull  them  into  reli¬ 
ance  and  security.  The  King  himself  undertook 
the  management  of  Coligny ;  and  the  royal 
hypocrite  plied  his  chosen  task  with  a  depth  of  art 
so  much  beyond  his  years,  that  he  soon  had  the 
Admiral  as  completely  within  his  toils  as  he  could 
desire.  Having  invited  him  to  court,  Charles  re¬ 
ceived  him  with  a  degree  of  distinction  which  had 
scarcely  ever  before  been  accorded  to  a  subject; 
and  not  only  restored  him  immediately  to  all  his 
ancient  dignities,  but  took  him  into  his  intimacy, 
consulted  him  on  all  affairs  of  State,  seemed  on 
every  occasion  to  be  more  swayed  by  his  advice 
than  by  that  of  any  of  his  other  counsellors,  and, 


28  True  Stories  from  History. 

in  short,  impressed  liim  with  a  conviction  that  he 
had  not  a  more  attached  friend  than  his  young 
sovereign. 

Coligny  thus  deceived,  it  was  not  wonderful 
that  the  great  majority  of  the  party  who  looked 
upon  him  as  their  head,  should  allow  themselves 
to  he  caught  in  the  same  snare.  The  professions 
of  the  Court  seem  to  have  been  almost  universally 
relied  upon  as  sincere ;  and  when  invitations  to 
the  royal  marriage  were  sent  to  all  the  most  dis¬ 
tinguished  Huguenot  lords  and  gentlemen  through¬ 
out  France,  few  thought  of  declining  to  repair  to 
Paris  from  any  apprehension  that  their  lives 
would  be  in  danger  on  an  occasion  which,  to  them 
especially,  was  one  of  so  much  triumph  and 
promise,  and  which  was  to  be  graced  and  sanc¬ 
tioned  by  the  presence,  in  the  quality  of  the 
King’s  confidant  and  advisor,  of  their  most  expe¬ 
rienced  and  most  venerated  chief.  Some,  how¬ 
ever,  still  retained  their  doubts  and  fears,  and 
deemed  it  most  prudent  to  remain  at  their  homes. 
One  circumstance  which  alarmed  the  more 


The  Huguenots  at  Court.  29 

suspicious,  was  tlie  sudden  death  of  Henry’s 
mother,  the  Queen  of  Navarre,  which  occurred  on 
the  9th  of  June,  at  the  house  of  Guillart,  Bishop 
of  Chartres,  in  which  she  had  taken  up  her  abode 
on  coming  to  Paris  a  few  weeks  before  to  assist  in 
the  preparations  for  her  son’s  nuptials. 

This  lady  was  a  person  of  distinguished  ability 
and  strength  of  character ;  and  although  the  ex¬ 
citement  in  which  men’s  minds  were  at  that  time, 
from  the  expectation  of  coming  events,  may  have 
caused  her  death  to  pass  over  with  less  observa¬ 
tion,  it  was  afterwards  very  generally  believed 
that  she  had  been  taken  off  by  poison,  perhaps 
from  a  fear  on  the  part  of  the  Court  that  her 
penetration,  and  the  opportunities  she  enjoyed  of 
mixing  intimately  with  the  royal  circle,  might 
enable  her  to  detect  or  conjecture  the  meditated 
treachery. 

As  the  day  on  which  the  marriage  was  to  take 
place  approached,  the  Huguenot  gentlemen,  and 
even  numbers  of  the  humbler  orders  who  be¬ 
longed  to  that  party,  flocked  to  Paris  from  all 


30  True  Stories  from  History. 

quarters  ;  and  by  the  middle  of  August  tbe  capital 
bad  collected  within  its  walls  nearly  all  the  per¬ 
sons  of  consequence  in  France  attached  to  the  new 
faith.  On  the  evening  of  Sunday  the  seventeenth, 
the  espousals  of  the  royal  pair  were  celebrated  in 
the  Louvre  with  becoming  festivities ;  and  on  the 
following  morning  the  marriage  ceremony  was  per¬ 
formed  on  an  elevated  platform  erected  before  the 
great  Cathedral  of  Notre-Dame,  in  the  presence  of 
a  splendid  company,  composed  both  of  Papists  and 
Protestants.  After  the  performance  of  the  cere¬ 
mony,  the  bride  and  those  of  the  company  who 
were  of  the  Eomish  faith,  advanced  to  the  high 
altar  to  hear  mass ;  while  Henry,  Admiral  Co- 
ligny,  and  the  rest  of  the  Protestants,  retired  into 
the  choir. 

On  leaving  the  church  the  party  returned  to  the 
archbishop’s  palace,  and  there  dined.  In  the  even¬ 
ing,  a  supper  and  a  masked  ball  again  collected 
the  revellers  in  the  grand  hall  of  the  Louvre, 
although  most  of  the  Protestants  were  restrained, 
by  the  severity  of  their  religious  notions,  from 


The  Marriage. 


81 


attending  this  conclusion  of  the  day’s  festivities. 
Coligny  himself  was  absent  under  the  pretext  of  a 
slight  indisposition. 

The  next  day,  the  nineteenth,  was  devoted  to  re¬ 
pose  by  the  King  and  his  exhausted  guests ;  but 
on  the  evening  of  Wednesday,  the  twentieth,  the 
hilarities  of  the  Court  were  renewed  by  a  very  ex¬ 
traordinary  entertainment  given  in  the  Hotel  de 
Bourbon.  On  this  occasion,  a  theatrical  show  or 
mask  was  exhibited  to  the  company,  which  actu¬ 
ally  pictured  out,  with  daring  distinctness,  the 
horrible  tragedy  that  was  so  soon  to  follow.  The 
chronicles  of  the  time*  describe  this  exhibition 
minutely,  and  from  their  descriptions  it  would 
seem  to  have  been  easy  to  conjecture  what  were 
the  thoughts  of  the  King,  and  his  secret  counsel¬ 
lors,  in  the  midst  of  all  these  scenes  of  festive 
abandonment.  It  is  true  that  such  a  rehearsal  of 
the  intended  massacre  was  unnecessary  for  the 
execution  of  the  design,  and  might  even  seem 


*  Mcmoires  de  l’Etat  de  la  France,  sous  Charles  IX. 


32  True  Stories  from  History. 

fraught  with  some  risk  of  preventing  its  success ; 
but  the  projectors  of  great  crimes  have  often 
shown  this  wild  propensity  to  sport  with  the 
chances  of  detection,  by  venturing  to  the  very 
brink  of  a  disclosure  of  their  plans. 

Even  before  this  dark  and  shadowy  hint  of  the 
designs  of  the  Court,  various  circumstances  had 
troubled  the  confidence  of  the  Protestants.  So 
little  care  had  their  enemies  taken  to  conceal  their 
hostile  intentions,  that  rumors  of  some  terrible 
blow  about  to  be  struck  were  general  among  the 
populace,  and  had,  in  several  instances,  met  the 
ears  of  the  devoted  Huguenots.  Obscure,  but  ear¬ 
nest,  intimations  of  impending  danger  had  even 
been  communicated  to  particular  individuals  by 
their  Eomish  friends.  The  uneasiness  and  appre¬ 
hension  thus  created  were  increased  to  the  greatest 
degree  of  alarm,  when  at  last  a  body  of  twelve 
hundred  soldiers  made  their  appearance  in  the 
city,  and  were  seen,  after  being  marched  through 
the  streets,  to  take  up  their  stations  under  arms,  in 
the  vicinity  of  the  palace,  the  arsenal,  and  other 


The  Marriage. 


33 


strongholds.  Several  Protestant  lords  and  gen¬ 
tlemen,  on  witnessing  the  entry  of  these  troops, 
secretly  withdrew  themselves  from  the  city ;  and 
even  Coligny  himself  was  induced,  on  the  morn¬ 
ing  of  the  twentieth,  to  seek  the  royal  presence, 
and  to  request  an  explanation  from  his  Majesty  of 
a  circumstance  which  had  so  greatly  excited  the 
fears  of  his  friends.  The  Admiral  was  received 
by  his  sovereign  with  so  much  kindness,  and  such 
warm  assurances  of  protection,  that  long  before 
the  close  of  their  interview,  whatever  suspicions 
he  had  at  first  been  inclined  to  entertain  were 
completely  dissipated.  So  far  did  Charles  carry 
his  dissimulation,  that  lie  declared  he  had  ordered 
the  troops  into  the  city  for  the  express  purpose  of 
placing  them  as  guards,  in  the  excited  state  of  the 
public  feeling,  around  the  houses  of  the  Huguenots, 
to  protect  them  from  designs  which  he  suspected 
to  be  entertained  against  them  by  their  old  ene¬ 
mies,  the  Guises.  To  enable  him  the  more  se¬ 
curely  to  attain  this  object,  he  suggested  that  all 

the  principal  persons  of  the  reformed  religion 
3 


34  True  Stories  from  History, 

should  be  immediately  collected  from  the  different 
parts  of  the  town,  and  lodged  together  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  palace.  Coligny,.  completely- 
reassured  by  all  this  show  of  friendship,  returned 
to  his  house,  where  he  was  soon  after  sought  by 
many  of  his  followers,  anxious  to  consult  with  him 
on  the  circumstances  in  which  they  were  placed. 
Eetiring  to  his  apartment,  he  left  his  son-in-law, 
Teligny,*  to  receive  his  visitors;  and  with  such 
encouraging  animation  did  this  ardent  young  man 
describe  to  them  the  conversation  which  the  Ad¬ 
miral  had  just  had  with  his  Majesty,  that  most 
of  them  left  the  house  convinced  of  the  ground¬ 
lessness  of  their  fears,  and  having  their  doubts 
of  their  sovereign’s  honor  converted  into  grati¬ 
tude  for  his  provident  watchfulness  over  their 
safety. 

The  strange  allegorical  pastime  with  which  the 
guests  of  the  palace  had  amused  themselves  on  the 

*  Charles,  Lord  of  Teligny  in  Rovergne,  had,  a  few  months 
before  this,  espoused  Louisa  de  Coligny,  the  daughter  of  the 
Admiral.  This  lady  afterwards  married  William  of  Nassau, 
Prinoe  of  Orange,  the  founder  of  the  Republic  of  Holland. 


The  Marriage. 


35 


evening  of  the  20th,  again  awakened  the  misgiv¬ 
ings  of  some,  and  on  the  following  day  Coligny 
repaired  to  the  Queen-mother,  to  inform  her  of  the 
dissatisfaction  which  these  extraordinary  revels 
had  occasioned.  Catherine  affected  to  laugh  at  his 
alarm.  “Mon  dieu!  Admiral,”  she  exclaimed, 
“  give  yourself  no  further  uneasiness  about  these 
festivities  of  ours — leave  us  to  make  merry  in  our 
own  way,  and  in  the  course  of  four  days,  on  the 
faith  of  a  Queen,  I  promise  you  that  you  and  those 
of  your  religion  shall  have  such  proofs  of  my 
regard  as  shall  satisfy  your  utmost  desires.”  She 
kept  her  word ! 


III. 


gU  cmjJttii  3 $ s a $ s  i  n a  t i a  it . 


HE  seeming  frankness  of  tire  assurances  of 


Queen  Catherine  appears  again  to  have  allayed 
all  suspicion ;  and  notwithstanding  the  successive 
warnings,  as  we  may  almost  call  them,  which  they 
had  received  of  the  destruction  preparing  for  them, 
the  devoted  victims  remained  in  tranquillity  under 
the  descending  stroke  of  their  oppressors. 

But  the  conspirators  were  now  about  to  proceed 
to  a  more  daring  act  than  anything  they  had  yet 
ventured  upon.  It  was  resolved  to  assassinate  the 
admiral.  In  the  obscurity  which  hangs  over 
much  of  the  interior  mechanism  of  these  dark 
transactions,  we  are  left  almost  to  mere  conjecture 
with  regard  to  the  motives  which  may  have 
prompted  the  contrivers  of  the  plot  to  preface 
their  work  of  general  slaughter,  by  this  attack  on 


Attempted  Assassination.  37 


the  life  of  an  individual.  Perhaps  they  had  be¬ 
come  afraid,  from  the  repeated  occasions  on  which 
Coligny  had  evinced  some  suspicion  of  the  inten¬ 
tions  of  the  Court,  that  he  had  his  eye  upon  them 
too  watchfully,  ymd  might  yet  defeat  their  plans 
unless  he  were  instantly  got  rid  of.  Or  they  may 
have  calculated  that  such  an  incident  as  the  mur¬ 
der  of  their  chief  in  open  day  was  the  most  likely 
of  all  things  to  strike  the  whole  body  of  the  Pro¬ 
testants  with  consternation,  and,  by  the  terror  and 
confusion  into  which  it  threw  them,  to  prepare 
them  the  more  certainly  for  falling  a  prey,  when 
their  destro}rers  should  be  let  loose  upon  them.  It 
may  have  even  been  expected  that  this  act  of 
treachery  would  perchance  precipitate  them,  in  the 
first  fury  of  their  indignation,  into  some  course  of 
violence  or  aggression,  such  as  might  afford  a 
seeming  justification  for  the  meditated  massacre. 
At  all  events,  if,  as  it  seems  likely,  the  assassina¬ 
tion  of  Coligny  was  the  project  of  the  heads,  or 
most  determined  partners  of  the  conspiracy,  it  was 
a  stroke  well-contrived,  by  its  tendency  to  bring 


88  True  Stories  from  History. 

matters  to  extremities,  to  fix  their  less  resolute 
confederates,  and  nerve  them  to  enter  with  decision 
upon  that  line  of  action  to  which  they  might  not 
otherwise  have  been  easily  brought  to  make  up 
their  minds.  There  were  appearances  of  vaccilla- 
tion  —  whether  arising  from  fear,  or  some  more 
creditable  feeling — on  the  part  of  Charles  himself, 
before  his  mother  and  her  more  intimate  coadju¬ 
tors  had  found  means  to  fix  his  resolution,  by  per¬ 
suading  him  that  matters  had  now  come  to  such  a 
pass  that,  if  he  should  delay  attacking  the  Hugue¬ 
nots,  they  would  assuredly  rise  and  destroy  him, 
and  that  the  question  was  simply  whether  they 
should  perish,  or  himself  and  a  vast  multitude  of 
his  other  subjects. 

But  to  return  to  our  story.  Towards  eleven 
o’clock  on  the  morning  of  the  22d,  which  was 
Friday,  the  Admiral,  after  having  spent  some  time 
in  the  Louvre  with  the  king’s  brother,  the  Duke 
of  Anjou,  who  had  sent  for  him — was  returning 
on  foot  to  his  hotel  to  dinner,  when  he  met  the 
King  coming  out  of  a  chapel  which  stood  opposite 


Attempted  Assassination.  39 


to  the  palace.  They  walked  together  to  the  tennis- 
court  of  the  palaee,  where,  finding  the  Duke  of 
Guise  and  Teligny,  Charles  and  the  former  engaged 
in  a  game  against  the  latter  and  another  gentleman. 
After  having  stood  by  for  a  short  time,  Coligny 
took  his  leave,  followed  by  about  a  dozen  lords 
and  gentlemen  of  his  party,  and  proceeded  on  his 
way  home.  lie  had  not  advanced  more  than  a 
hundred  paces,  when  as  he  was  moving  leisurely 
along,  engaged  in  reading  a  paper  which  some  one 
had  presented  to  him,  he  was  suddenly  struck  by 
two  balls  from  an  arquebuse,  one  of  which  carried 
away  the  forefinger’  of  his  right  hand,  while  the 
other  wounded  him  more  severely  in  his  left  arm. 
He  immediately  dropped  the  paper  he  held,  and 
fell  into  the  arms  of  his  friends  who  were  near 
him.  The  shot  had  come  from  the  right,  and 
looking  up  in  that  direction,  the  Admiral  pointed 
■out  at  onee  to  those  who  were  with  him,  the  win- 
clow  from  which  it  had  been  fired.  The  house 
was  that  of  the  Canon  Pierre  de  Pille  de  Vi  llemur, 
who  had  formerly  been  preceptor  to  the  Duke  of 


40  True  Stories  from  History. 

Guise.  It  stood  contiguous  to  the  cloister  of  a 
church,  into  which  there  was  an  opening  by  a 
back  door.  The  window  at  which  the  assassin  had 
taken  his  station  was  darkened  by  an  iron  trellis. 
Several  of  Coligny’s  followers  immediately  pro¬ 
ceeded  to  the  house,  and  forced  their  way  into  it, 
but  when  they  reached  the  apartment  from  which 
the  assassin  had  taken  aim,  they  found  only  the 
arcjuebusc  remaining  where  he  had  rested  it  on  the 
window.  He,  himself,  as  it  afterwards  appeared, 
had  made  his  escape  through  the  cloister  of  the 
church,  to  a  horse  which  stood  ready  saddled  for 
him  on  the  bank  of  the  river,  and  on  which  he 
was  soon  after  seen  riding  from  the  city  at  full 
speed.* 

Meanwhile  Coligny  had  been  carried  home  by 
his  friends  and  placed  in  bed.  The  news  of  the 
attack  that  had  been  made  upon  his  life  spread 
rapidly  over  the  city,  and  the  Protestants  flocked 


*  His  name  was  Maurevel,  or  Manrevert,  a  creature  of  the 
Duke  of  Guise,  in  whose  service  this  is  said  not  to  have  been 
his  first  exploit  of  a  similar  character. 


Attempted  Assassination.  41 


in  crowds  to  liis  Louse.  Among  otLers  the  cele¬ 
brated  surgeon,  Ambrose  Pere,  was  quickly  in 
attendance,  and  proceeded  to  dress  tlie  wounds  of 
the  old  man,  and  to  extract  tire  ball,  wbile  a 
numerous  circle  of  Lis  friends  stood  around,  watch- 
ing  the  process  with  intense  solicitude.  But  we 
must  omit  all  further  description  of  this  scene,  and 
return  for  a  moment  to  the  tennis-court,  where  the 
King  was  at  play.  That  j)art  of  the  street  where 
the  Admiral  was  when  he  was  fired  at,  was  so  near 
the  palace,  that  the  report  of  the  arquebuse,  ringing 
through  the  tennis-court,  startled  his  majesty  and 
those  who  were  with  him,  and  the  next  minute 
some  one  running  into  the  palace  from  the  street, 
informed  them  what  had  happened.  There  is  no 
good  reason  to  suppose  that  Charles  had  been 
intrusted  by  his  mother  with  her  plan  of  assassin¬ 
ating  the  Admiral.  She  seems  rather,  as  we  have 
already  observed,  to  have  determined  upon  the 
perpetration  of  the  crime  principally  for  the  pur¬ 
pose  of  steadying  the  wavering  resolution  of  her 
son,  by  producing  a  state  of  circumstances  in 


42  True  Stories  from  History. 

which  he  should  imagine  it  impossible  for  him  to 
draw  back  in  his  design. 

When  Charles,  therefore,  was  now  told  of  the 
daring  outrage  which  had  been  committed  almost 
within  the  precincts  of  his  palace,  his  instant  emo¬ 
tion  was  that  of  furious  indignation.  Throwing 
down  his  racket,  he  rushed  into  the  palace,  declar¬ 
ing  that  he  would  be  avenged  on  the  bold  ruffian 
who  had  thus  broken  the  laws  and  insulted  his 
authority.  He  had  not  been  long  in  his  apartment 
when  the  King  of  Navarre  and  the  Prince  of 
Conde  sought  his  presence,  having  just  come  from 
the  house  of  their  wounded  friend.  To  their 
vehement  suit  for  justice  on  the  authors  of  the 
assassination  he  replied,  with  the  most  terrific 
oaths,  that  the  Admiral’s  blood  should  be  amply 
atoned  for.  His  mother,  and  the  Duke  of  Anjou, 
who  were  also  present,  deemed  it  prudent  in  the 
meantime,  to  counterfeit  the  same  indignation,  and 
to  join  in  the  King’s  assurances,  that  nothing 
should  be  left  undone  to  detect  the  perpetrators  of 
so  heinous  an  atrocity. 


Attempted  Assassination.  43 


Soon  after  this  Tcligny  presented  himself,  bring¬ 
ing  a  request  to  Charles  from  his  father-in-law, 
that  he  would  deign  to  pay  him  a  visit  at  his  hotel, 
as  he  had  some  matters  to  communicate  to  him 
which  he  was  unwilling  to  confide  to  any  other 
ear.  With  this  petition  the  King  promised  to 
comply,  and  about  two  o’clock  Charles  set  out  to 
make  his  promised  visit,  accompanied  by  his 
mother,  his  brothers,  and  a  retinue  composed  of 
several  of  the  most  distinguished  members  of  the 
Court,  among  whom  were  the  Marshal  de  Tavan- 
nes,  the  Count  de  Rctz,  and  the  Duke  de  Nevers, 
all  principal  confidants  of  Catherine,  and  confeder¬ 
ated  with  her  in  her  scheme  for  the  massacre  of 
the  Protestants.  When  they  reached  the  house, 
they  were  ushered  into  the  apartment  where  Co- 
ligny  was,  surrounded  by  many  of  his  friends, 
among  whom  were  the  King  of  Navarre,  the 
Prince  of  Conde,  and  other  individuals  of  rank. 
Charles  and  his  mother  having  taken  their  seats 
by  his  bed-side,  the  wounded  man  entered  into 
conversation  with  them.  In  a  long  discourse 


44  True  Stories  from  History. 

which  lie  addressed  to  tlie  King,  he  began  by  tak¬ 
ing  God  to  witness,  that  in  all  his  actions  he  had 
never  had  any  other  object  in  view  except  the 
good  of  his  country,  and  his  sovereign’s  true 
honor,  declaring  that  he  was  ready  to  render  an 
account  of  his  conduct  to  his  Maker,  if  it  should 
be  His  will  now  to  take  him  to  Himself.  Passing 
from  that  topic,  he  proceeded  to  urge  upon  his 
Majesty  the  duty  of  doing  something  to  check  the 
growing  ascendency  of  Spain,  or  at  least  of  so 
ordering  matters  that  the  Duke  of  Alba  should  no 
longer  be  immediately  informed,  by  means  of  his 
salaried  spies,  of  whatever  took  place  in  the  council 
of  the  King  of  France.  But  the  subject  to  which 
he  besought  the  King’s  attention  with  the  greatest 
earnestness,  was  the  necessity,  if  he  wished  to  pre¬ 
serve  the  tranquillity  of  the  kingdom,  of  his  giving 
orders  that  the  different  edicts  which  had  been 
published  for  the  protection  of  the  adherents  of 
the  reformed  faith,  and  especially  the  articles  of 
the  recent  peace,  should  be  more  strictly  main¬ 
tained.  Charles  replied  in  somewhat  guarded 


Attempted  Assassination.  45 

terms.  He  expressed  Id’s  conviction  of  the  Admi¬ 
ral’s  loyalty  and  patriotism,  and  added  that  it  had 
ever  been  his  wish  to  observe  religiously  his  com¬ 
pact  with  his  Protestant  subjects,  and  that  such 
was  still  his  determination.  He  then  professed  to 
feel  anxious  that  Coligny,  in  his  weak  state,  should 
not  agitate  himself  by  any  further  exertion ;  and, 
adverting  to  his  wound,  declared,  with  an  oath, 
that  he  would  punish  the  crime  that  had  been 
committed  in  such  a  manner  that  the  memory  of 
his  revenge  should  never  be  forgotten.  The  con¬ 
versation  continued  for  a  short  time  longer,  when 
it  was  proposed  by  the  Count  de  Eetz  that  Co¬ 
ligny  should  be  removed  to  the  palace,  where  the 
Queen  of  Navarre  would  willingly  give  up  her 
apartment  to  his  use.  This,  however,  was  opposed 
by  Mazille,  the  physician  in  attendance,  who 
stated  that  a  removal  would  be  attended  with 
danger  to  his  patient.  The  royal  party  remained 
to  see  the  wounds  dressed,  when  Charles,  taking 
up  one  of  the  bandages  that  was  steeped  in  blood, 
looked  at  it  with  every  appearance  of  reverential 


46  True  Stories  from  History. 

concern,  and  then  handed  it  to  his  mother.  The 
hall  which  had  been  extracted  from  the  Admiral’s 
arm,  was  also  examined  by  both.  They  then  took 
their  departure,  and  hurried  back  to  the  Louvre. 
On  arriving  at  the  palace,  Charles,  Catherine,  the 
Duke  of  Anjou,  and  their  chief  advisers,  remained 
for  some  time  in  secret  consultation ;  after  which 
the  King  was  busily  engaged  in  giving  orders  and 
making  up  despatches,  with  which  couriers  were 
sent  off  to  the  provinces  in  rapid  succession. 


IV. 


lire  Pass  acre  §  eg  ins. 

ON  the  following  day,  the  23d,  the  municipal 
functionaries  of  the  different  quarters  of  the 
city  were  employed  in  going  through  the  streets 
of  their  several  districts,  and  taking  down  the 
names  of  the  Protestants,  professedly  with  the 
object  of  having  as  many  of  them  as  possible 
removed  to  the  neighborhood  of  the  Louvre,  for 
their  greater  safety.  Accordingly,  a  great  number 
of  the  principal  lords  and  gentlemen  of  the  party 
were  accommodated  with  lodgings  immediately 
around  the  hotel  of  the  Admiral ;  those  who  re¬ 
sided  in  the  different  houses  giving  up  their  apart¬ 
ments  to  these  new  tenants.  A  guard  of  fifty 
soldiers  was  also  stationed  around  Coligny’s  hotel, 
for  the  protection,  as  it  was  pretended,  of  himself 
and  friends;  but  some  surprise  and  apprehension 


48  True  Stories  from  History. 

was  felt  at  its  being  put  under  the  command  of 
Cosseius,  a  well-known  minion  of  the  Queen-moth¬ 
er,  and  an  old  enemy  of  the  Admiral’s.  Cosseius 
and  his  men  seem  to  have  repaired  to  their  post 
towards  night-fall ;  and  at  the  same  time  other 
detachments  of  military  were  placed  around  the 
palace,  along  the  bank  of  the  river,  and  at  other 
stations  in  the  same  neighborhood.  These  arrange¬ 
ments  appear  to  have  been  determined  upon  at  a 
final  consultation  which  had  been  held  in  the  earlier 
part  of  the  day,  in  the  garden  of  the  Tuileries,  by 
Catherine,  the  King,  the  Duke  of  Anjou,  the  Mar¬ 
shal  de  Tavannes,  and  the  other  chiefs  of  the  con¬ 
spiracy.  It  is  said  to  have  been  on  this  occasion 
that  Catharine  first  proposed  to  her  son  the  imme¬ 
diate  execution  of  the  design  which  had  been  so 
long  in  preparation,  urging  upon  him  with  especial 
earnestness  the  favorable  circumstances  in  which 
the  attempt  might  be  made  while  the  Admiral  was 
confined  to  his  bed,  and  the  minds  of  his  followers 
perplexed  by  anxiety  on  his  account.  Her  em¬ 
ployment  of  this  language  would  give  countenance 


The  Massacre  Begins. 


49 


to  the  supposition  that  the  assassination  of  Coligny 
had  been  designed  to  bring  about  the  state  of 
things  which  she  now  described,  or  at  least  to  aid 
her  in  overcoming  the  irresolution  of  Charles,  by 
enabling  her  to  assert  that  such  a  result  had  fol¬ 
lowed  from  it. 

The  scheme  which  she  proposed  for  the  massacre 
was  of  the  most  sanguinary  and  comprehensive 
description,  involving  the  destruction  of  the  King 
of  Navarre,  and  the  Prince  of  Conde,  as  well  as  all 
of  their  followers.  The  arguments  of  another 
member  of  the  confederacy,  however,  succeeded  in 
determining  the  King  to  spare  the  two  young 
princes,  on  condition  of  their  consenting  to  em¬ 
brace  the  Roman  Catholic  faith. 

It  was  their  own  persons  only,  however,  which 

it  was  agreed  to  respect.  It  was  resolved  that, 

although  untouched  themselves,  they  should  have 

their  full  share  in  the  terrors  of  the  coming 

slaughter,  by  beholding  it  raging,  in  its  direst 

fury,  close  around  them.  With  this  view,  Charles, 

under  pretence  of  a  fear  which  he  professed  to  en- 
4 


50  True  Stories  from  History. 

tertain  of  some  attempt  upon  their  lives  about  to 
be  made  b}r  the  Guises,  invited  them  to  assemble 
the  principal  gentlemen  of  tbeir  suites  for  that 
night  at  the  Louvre,  and  to  have  them  lodged 
around  their  own  apartments-.  This  seemingly 
friendly  counsel  was  accepted  and  acted  upon; 
and  by  ten  o’clock  the  two  princes  had  retired 
to  tbeir  respective  chambers,  while  the  most  faith¬ 
ful  of  their  attendants  occupied  the  adjoining 
rooms,  unarmed,  and  secure,  as  they  imagined, 
from  all  violence,  under  the  pledged  honor,  and  in 
the  fortified  and  guarded  residence,  of  their 
sovereign. 

After  the  military  had  been  disposed  in  the 
manner  that  has  been  already  described,  the  Duke 
of  Guise  assembled  the  principal  officers  of  the 
different  corps,  and  stated  to  them,  in  a  short  ad¬ 
dress,  the  nature  of  the  service  in  which  they  were 
about  to  be  engaged.  At  the  same  time,  Charron, 
the  Provost  of  the  Merchants,  in  conformity  with 
the  instructions  he  had  received,  having  collected 
the  captains  and  lieutenants  of  the  city  night* 


The  Massacre  Begins. 


51 


guard  in  the  great  hall  of  the  Hotel  de  Yille,  pre¬ 
pared  them  in  like  manner  for  taking  their  part 
in  the  massacre.  The  signal,  it  was  intimated,  for 
the  commencement  of  the  bloody  work,  would  be 
given  towards  the  break  of  day,  from  the  clock  of 
the  Palais  de  Justice — immediately  on  hearing 
which  they  would  break  into  the  houses  where 
the  Protestants  were  lodged  in  all  the  different 
parts  of  the  city,  and  proceed  to  slaughter  the  in¬ 
mates,  without  regard  to  age  or  sex.  The  doors 
of  these  devoted  dwellings  had  already  been 
marked  with  white  crosses.  The  assassins,  also, 
that  they  might  know  each  other  when  they  met, 
were  commanded  to  wrap  each  a  white  scarf 
around  his  left  arm,  and  to  place  a  cross  of  the 
same  color  in  his  hat.  These  badges,  after  the 
massacre  had  begun,  seem  to  have  been  generally 
adopted  by  the  Romish  population,  both  as  a 
means  of  mutual  recognition,  and  as  tokens  of  the 
right  of  those  who  bore  them  to  walk  unharmed 
amidst  the  bloody  storm  that  raged  through  the 
inhospitable  and  treacherous  city. 


52  True  Stories  from  History. 

Such,  then,  was  the  state  of  things  at  the  Louvre, 
and  in  the  neighborhood  of  that  royal  castle,  in 
the  earlier  part  of  the  night  of  the  28d  of  August, 
1572.  Most  of  the  persons  of  note  among  the 
Huguenots,  to  the  number  of  several  hundred, 
were  lodged  in  the  streets  near  the  palace.  The 
Admiral  of  Chatillon  lay  ill  of  his  wound  in  his 
hotel,  where  his  son-in-law,  Telignj',  and  several 
others  of  his  more  intimate  friends,  also  resided. 
The  King  of  Navarre  and  the  Prince  of  Condo 
were  asleep  in  their  apartments  in  the  Louvre, 
Avith  the  principal  gentlemen  attached  to  their 
persons  assembled  around  them,  under  cover  of 
the  same  roof.  Many  Protestants  who  had  not 
found  accommodation  in  this  quarter,  were  dis¬ 
persed  over  the  other  parts  of  the  city ;  and  in  the 
Faubourg  St.  Grermain  especially,  on  the  other 
side  of  the  river,  the  persons  of  rank  of  that  party 
were  collected  together  in  considerable  numbers. 
With  feiv  exceptions,  all  these  individuals,  though 
well  aware  that  they  dwelt  in  the  midst  of  a  hos¬ 
tile  population,  believed  that  they  were  in  the 


The  Massacre  Begins. 


53 


meantime  secure  under  the  protection  of  their 
king  ;  and,  trusting  to  the  arrangements  which  he 
had  made  professedly  for  their  safety,  had  retired 
to  take  their  repose,  unarmed,  and  fearing  no 
evil.  On  the  other  hand,  among  their  enemies  all 
was  active  preparation  for  the  great  blow  that  was 
about  to  be  struck.  Already  had  the  armed 
bands,  who  were  to  commence  the  massacre,  re¬ 
ceived  their  instructions  and  been  drawn  up 
around  the  dwellings  of  their  unsuspecting  vic¬ 
tims.  Parties  of  the  king’s  troops  and  of  the  city 
guard  were  planted  at  the  Louvre,  in  front  of  the 
residence  of  Ooligny,  and  at  different  stations  in 
the  streets,  and  along  the  bank  of  the  river,  as 
far  east  as  the  arsenal,  all  under  the  command  of 
minions  of  Guise  or  of  the  Court.  Throughout 
the  town  the  houses  tenanted  by  Protestants  were 
all  marked  by  white  crosses  on  the  doors. 

Meanwhile  the  different  chiefs  of  the  conspiracy 
were  busily  employed,  some  in  riding  from  post  to 
post,  to  see  that  the  arrangements  for  the  attack 
were  complete,  or  to  convey  new  orders  from  the 


64  True  Stories  from  History. 

Louvre  ; — others  assisting  at  the  consultations 
which  continued  to  be  held  by  Catherine,  Charles, 
and  their  associates,  within  that  central  seat  of  the 
blood}'-  design,  in  which  the  preparations  for  it 
had  been  contrived  and  thus  far  brought  to  matu¬ 
rity,  and  where  the  match  was  now  about  to  be 
applied  to  that  well-laid  train,  in  the  explosion  of 
which  so  many  thousands  of  helpless  and  innocent 
human  beings  were  miserably  to  perish. 

As  the  night  advanced,  however,  the  tranquillity 
to  which  the  Protestants  had  resigned  themselves, 
gave  place,  among  some  of  them,  to  considerable 
perplexity  and  alarm.  The  different  movements 
which  Avere  going  on  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
palace — the  frequent  opening  and  shutting  of  the 
gates,  as  couriers  departed  to,  or  arrived  from,  the 
several  parts  of  the  city  with  which  it  was  neces¬ 
sary  to  be  in  communication — the  introduction  of 
quantities  of  arms  into  that  stronghold — the  con¬ 
stant  passing  of  horsemen  and  pedestrians  bearing 
torches  along  the  streets — and  all  the  increasing- 
bustle  unavoidably  attendant  upon  the  eve  of  so 


The  Massacre  Begins.  55 

'terrible  an  enterprise,  had  awakened  from  their 
sleep  many  of  those  who  were  lodged  in  the 
•quarter  principally  disturbed  by  these  noises, 
raising  from  their  beds  they  left  their  houses  and 
proceeded  to  the  Louvre,  in  order,  if  possible,  to 
ascertain  the  meaning  ef  sueh  unusual  commotion. 
On  addressing  their  inquiries  to  the  soldiers 
whom  they  found  stationed  around  the  palace, 
they  were  informed  that  the  whole  was  occasioned 
merely  by  the  preparations  for  a  nocturnal  fete 
which  the  Court  was  about  to  give.  This  answer 
was  ambiguous  rather  than  literally  false. 

Meanwhile  it  would  appear  that  Catherine  had 
not  yet  succeeded  in  working  up  the  froward  and 
irresolute  temper  of  her  son  to  the  pitch  of  daring 
at  which  he  would  venture  actually  to  give  orders 
for  commencing  the  massacre.  It  seems  to  have 
been  originally  intended  that  the  signal  for  the 
murderers  to  fall  upon  their  prey  should  sound 
from  the  city,  immediately  before  daybreak,  or 
about  half-past  two  in  the  morning.  But  the  un¬ 
decided  state  of  the  King’s  mind  determined 


56  True  Stories  from  History. 

Catherine  to  take  advantage  of  a  moment  of  ex¬ 
citement  in  which  he  had  been  prevailed  upon  to 
express  his  consent  that  they  should  proceed  with 
the  business,  and  to  order  the  tocsin  to  be  rung 
immediately  from  the  steeple  of  the  adjacent 
Church  of  St.  Germain  TAuxerrois.  This  was 
about  midnight. 

As  the  bell  flung  its  sounds  of  omen  over  the 
city  and  its  suburbs,  the  people  everywhere 
started  from  their  slumbers.  The  windows  of  the 
Louvre,  the  Tuileries,  and  of  many  other  public 
buildings  and  private  residences,  were  lighted  up 
with  all  haste.  The  tenants  of  other  houses,  fol¬ 
lowing  these  examples,  the  town  was  speedily 
illuminated  in  every  part.  Some  time  further, 
however,  seems  to  have  been  spent  in  preparation 
on  one  side,  and  perplexity,  terror,  and  confusion 
on  the  other,  before  the  slaughter  was  begun. 
The  agents  commissioned  to  execute  the  plot  were 
now  all  in  motion.  The  order  for  striking  the 
blow  had  gone  forth  and  could  not  be  recalled. 
Catherine’s  purpose  was  attained,  now  that  she 


The  Mass ac re  Begins.  57 

had  contrived  to  have  the  King  committed  to  the 
terrible  work.  At  half-past  two,  just  as  the  dawn 
began  to  appear,  the  massacre  began.  The  infu¬ 
riated  soldiery,  the  abandoned  bigot  of  the  Papacy, 
the  man  who  had  his  private  malice  to  seek  re¬ 
venge,  all  mingled  in  that  awful  hour,  in  the  work 
of  death. 


V. 


$ju  Jptttfou  0f  C 0 X i g it s . 


OSSEINS,  as  already  mentioned,  commanded 


^  the  guard  stationed  in  front  of  tlie  Admiral’s 
house.  Seeing  the  Duke  of  Cruise  approaching  at 
the  head  of  a  body  of  armed  men,  he  immediately 
proceeded  to  make  the  dispositions  already  com 
certed  between  them.  He  first  placed  five  or  six 
soldiers  opposite  to  each  window  of  the  house,  that 
they  might  be  ready  to  fire  upon  any  one  who 
should  attempt  to  make  his  escape.  He  then 
knocked  with  violence  at  the  gate  of  the  court. 
This  brought  down  the  person  who  kept  the  keys, 
and  who,  on  being  informed  that  admission  was 
desired  to  the  Admiral  by  a  messenger  from  the 
King,  immediately  opened  the  gate.  Cosseins  in¬ 
stantly  fell  upon  the  man,  and  despatched  him 
by  repeated  strokes  of  his  dagger.  He  then,  fol- 


The  Murder  of  Coligny.  59 


lowed  by  bis  men,  forced  bis  way  into  tbe  Court. 
Tbe  attendants,  in  tbeir  alarm  and  consternation, 
after  a  brief  and  ineffectual  resistance,  took  refuge 
witbin  tbe  bouse,  the  door  of  which  they  shut. 
By  this  time  all  tbe  inmateswere  aroused ;  and 
means  were  forthwith  taken  to  barricade  the  door, 
by  bringing  down  tbe  heaviest  articles  of  furni¬ 
ture  and  placing  them  behind  it.  But  these  im¬ 
pediments  did  not  long  withstand  the  fury  of  the 
assailants.  Having  forced  their  way  into  the 
house,  they  rushed  up  the  stairs  to  the  rooms 
where  the  Admiral  and  his  friends  were.  Coligny 
himself  had  already  risen  from  the  bed,  and,  seeing 
that  all  chance  of  defence  was  gone,  had  desired 
his  friends  to  leave  him,  and  to  hasten,  if  it  were 
yet  possible,  to  secure  their  own  safety  by  flight. 
On  this  all  who  were  in  the  apartment  with¬ 
drew  except  a  servant  named  Nicholas  Muss ; 
and  ascending  to  the  upper  part  of  the  house, 
they  got  out  by  a  window  on  the  roof.  Very 
few  of  them,  however,  effected  their  escape.  The 
greater  number  were  slain  in  the  adjacent 


60  Teue  Stoeies  from  Histoey. 

Louse,  through  which  they  endeavored  to  gain 
the  street. 

Meanwhile  Cosseins,  accompanied  by  a  German 
of  the  name  of  Berne,  one  of  the  servants  of  the 
Duke  of  Guise,  and  several  other  persons,  sud¬ 
denly  rushed,  with  their  drawn  swords  in  their 
hands,  into  the  room  where  Coligny  was.  The 
old  man  looked  on  them  with  an  unmoved  coun¬ 
tenance. 

“Are  you  not  the  Admiral?” — cried  B£me, 
extending  his  sword  towards  him. 

“I  am,”  he  replied  calmly;  and  then  fixing  his 
eye  upon  the  naked  blade  with  which  he  was 
menaced,  he  added,  “  Young  man,  you  ought  to 
have  respected  my  age  and  my  infirmity ;  but  you 
will  only  shorten  my  life  by  a  few  days  or  hours. 
Yet  I  could  have  wished” — he  continued,  after  a 
momentary  pause,  with  the  feelings  natural  to  a 
soldier — “  I  could  have  wished  that  I  were  to 
perish  by  the  hand  of  a  man,  and  not  of  this 
menial.” 

Berne  then,  uttering  an  oath,  first  thrust  his 


The  Murder  of  Coligny.  61 

sword  into  his  breast,  and  afterwards  struck  him 
with  it  repeatedly  on  the  head.  At  the  same  time 
the  rest  assailed  him  with  like  ferocity,  till  he  fell 
down  dead  upon  the  floor.  The  voice  of  the 
Duke  of  Guise  was  now  heard  from  below,  in¬ 
quiring  if  the  deed  were  done?  On  being  an¬ 
swered  in  the  affirmative,  he  ordered  them  to 
throw  the  dead  body  from  the  window,  that  he 
might  see  with  his  own  eyes  whether  or  not  it  was 
really  the  Admiral  they  had  slain.  At  first,  when 
he  looked  on  the  hacked  and  blood-besmeared 
carcass,  he  could  scarcely  recognize  it.  But  hav¬ 
ing  bent  down  over  it,  and  with  his  own  hand 
wiped  the  face  with  a  cloth,  he  exclaimed,  “  Yes, 
I  know  it;  it  is  he  himself.”  He  then  spurned  it 
with  his  foot,  and  calling  to  his  men, ‘led  them  out 
of  the  court. 

As  soon  as  the  soldiers  of  the  Duke  had  left  the 
Admiral’s  hotel,  a  party  of  the  populace,  hearing 
the  tocsin  ringing  from  the  bell  of  the  Palais  de 
Justice,  rushed  into  the  street,  and  were  soon  col¬ 
lected  in  a  tumultuous  throng  around  and  within 


G2  True  Stories  from  History. 

the  court  and  mansion  which  had  just  been  the 
scene  of  such  sanguinary  atrocities.  Having 
found,  among  the  slain,  the  mangled  body  of 
Coligny,  they  gathered  round  it  with  eager 
curiosity,  and  vied  with  each  other  in  heaping 
mockery  and  outrage  on  the  senseless  clay.  Not 
satisfied  with  the  disfigurement  already  inflicted 
upon  it  by  those  who  had  deprived  it  of  life,  they 
proceeded  to  hack  and  mutilate  it  till  the  gory 
mass  scarcely  retained  a  trace  of  humanity.  One 
man  cut  off  the  head,  and  bearing  it  away  with 
him,  presented  it  to  Charles  and  his  mother,  by 
whom,  after  being  embalmed,  it  was  sent  to  the 
Pope  at  Rome,  or  as  other  authorities  assert,  to 
Philip  II.  of  Spain. 

Other  monsters,  imitating  this  example,  tore  off 
the  hands,  and  the  feet,  and  the  ears.  Afterwards 
the  trunk  was  kicked  and  dragged  about  in  the 
mire  of  the  streets  by  one  band  of  blood-stained 
revellers  after’  another,  for  three  days.  It  was  at 
last  taken  to  the  gibbet  at  Montfaucon,  and  there 
hung  up  by  the  leg3.  There  this  venerable  noble- 


The  Murder  of  Coligny. 


68 


man’s  remains,  naked,  mutilated,  and  besmeared 
with  all  manner  of  defilement,  swung  in  their  iron 
chain  from  the  gallows-tree.  Charles  and  his 
mother,  attended  by  a  numerous  suite,  came  to 
view  the  hideous  spectacle.  As  the  King  gazed 
on  it,  one  of  his  courtiers,  who  accompanied  him, 
remarked  that  the  smell  was  offensive.  “  The 
body  of  a  dead  enemy,”  replied  Charles,  repeating 
the  expression  of  Vitellius  at  Cremona — “always 
smells  sweet.” 


VI. 


%  Ire  lias  sat xt  tens  ©«. 

o  CV 


TILE  the  Admiral  Coligny  was  thus  "being 


'  *  the  victim  of  bigoted  and  infuriated  hate,  the 
blood  of  the  devoted  Huguenots  was  flowing  with 
no  less  profusion  at  the  Louvre,  under  the  eyes  of 
the  King  himself.  Nangay,  the  Captain  of  the 
Guards,  having  repaired,  with  a  party  of  his  men, 
to  the  chambers  occupied  by  the  attendants  of  the 
King  of  Navarre  and  the  Prince  of  Conde,  fell 
upon  their  victims  before  they  had  time  to  think 
of  defence.  They  took  from  them  what  arms  they 
happened  to  have  in  their  possession,  and  then 
leading  them  down  to  the  court  in  front  of  the 
palace,  they  slew  them  deliberately,  one  by  one, 
while  Charles  looked  on  from  the  window,  and 
urged  them  to  take  care  that  none  escaped. 

It  was  impossible,  however,  that  such  a  mas- 


The  Massacre  Goes  On. 


65 


sacre  could  be  effected  without  much  noise  and 
disorder,  cut  off,  even  as  the  sufferers  were,  from 
all  help  or  means  of  resistance.  The  palace 
seems  to  have  been  filled  with  confusion  and 
terror. 

Henry’s  newly-married  Queen,  Margaret,  has 
given  us,  in  her  memoirs,  an  account  of  so  much 
of  the  frightful  tragedy  as  fell  under  her  own  ob¬ 
servation.  While  she  lay  asleep  in  her  own  apart¬ 
ment,  which  was  near  that  of  her  husband,  she  was 
awakened  by  some  one  knocking  at  the  door,  and 
crying  out  “  Navarre  !  Navarre  !  ”  Her  servant, 
thinking  it  was  her  husband,  King  Henry,  quickly 
ran  to  the  door.  On  opening  it,  a  gentleman 
rushed  in,  bleeding  from  wounds  in  different  parts 
of  his  person,  and  pursued  by  soldiers.  As  they 
did  not  hesitate  to  follow  him  into  the  chamber, 
he,  seeking  a  place  of  refuge,  threw  himself  on  the 
bed  where  Margaret  lay.  Feeling  herself  caught 
hold  of  by  the  man,  she  sprang  from  the  bed  to 
the  floor,  where  he  fell  with  her,  continuing  to 

cling  to  her.  She  knew  not  whether  the  soldiers 
5 


66  True  Stories  from  History, 

were  seeking  her  life  or  his,  and  she  was  extremely 
agitated.  At  length  Nangay,  the  Captain  of  the 
Guards,  made  his  appearance  and  released  her. 
He  reproved  the  men  for  their  violence,  ordered 
them  to  leave  the  apartment,  and  granted  to  Mar¬ 
garet’s  entreaties  the  life  of  the  poor  man  who  had 
sought  refuge  in  her  apartments. 

Margaret  was  then  conducted  into  the  apart¬ 
ments  of  her  sister,  Madame  of  Lorraine.  As  she 
was  entering  the  ante-chamber,  a  gentleman,  pur¬ 
sued  by  soldiers,  was  pierced  by  a  halberd  Within 
a  few  feet  of  her.  At  this  sight  she  fainted. 
Nangay  had  already  informed  her  of  what  was 
going  on,  and  assured  her  that  her  husband  was 
in  safety  beside  the  King. 

In  truth  Henry  and  the  Prince  of  Conde  had 
already  been  conducted  to  Charles,  and  received 
by  him  in  a  room  where  he  sat  in  company  with 
the  chief  contrivers  of  the  massacre.  As  soon  as 
they  presented  themselves  he  addressed  them  at 
some  length,  and  after  enumerating  the  various 
causes  of  complaint  he  conceived  himself  to  have 


The  Massacre  Goes  Oh. 


67 


against  tlie  party  to  which  they  had  belonged,  he 
concluded  by  announcing  to  them  that  they  must 
either  consent  immediately  to  change  their  religion, 
or  prepare  to  undergo  the  fate  which  they  had  seen 
inflicted  on  so  many  of  their  friends.  In  reply  the 
two  young  princes  ventured  to  remind  their  royal 
kinsman  of  the  promises  and  assurances  by  which 
he  had  drawn  them  to  his  Court,  and  the  other 
considerations  entitling  them  to  have  their  opin¬ 
ions  respected,  and  their  lives  preserved.  Their 
remonstrances  were  in  vain.  The  utmost  they 
could  obtain  was  a  respite  of  three  days,  before  the 
termination  of  which  they  consented  to  go  to  mass, 
and  thus  escaped  death,  though  they  did  not  re¬ 
cover  their  liberty. 

While  these  events  were  taking  place,  the  alarm- 
bell  sounded  from  the  Palais  cle  Justice.  This 
was  the  signal  for  all  the  subordinate  agents  of  the 
conspiracy  in  the  different  parts  of  the  town  to 
commence  operations.  Tavanncs,  and  several  of 
his  associates,  immediately  appeared  on  horseback 
in  the  streets,  and  riding  about  in  all  directions, 


68  True  Stories  from  History. 

called  out  to  the  people  to  kill  the  Huguenots, 
telling  them  that  such  was  the  command  of  the 
King,  who  desired  that  not  a  single  heretic  should 
he  suffered  to  escape.  From  this  moment  the 
slaughter  was  universal  and  indiscriminate.  In¬ 
flamed  with  the  wildest  fury  of  religious  hatred, 
to  which,  in  many  cases,  fear,  revenge,  and 
other  malignant  passions  added  double  force,  the 
multitude  set  no  bounds  to  their  ferocity  and 
cruelty.  Persons  of  both  sexes  and  of  all  ages 
equally  fell  victims  to  their  unpitying  rage. 
Every  house  supposed  to  be  tenanted  by  persons 
of  the  obnoxious  religion  was  broken  into.  The 
inmates  sometimes  attempted  to  fly  or  to  hide 
themselves,  but  rarely  offered  any  resistance.  It 
was  all  headlong  fury  on  one  side,  and  astonish¬ 
ment  and  consternation  on  the  other.  Hor  were 
all  those  who  perished  Protestants.  Many  took  ad¬ 
vantage  of  the  confusion  of  this  popular  tempest  to 
satiate  their  private  and  personal  enmities,  and  to 
wreak  on  a  brother  of  the  same  faith  the  hoarded 
hatred  of  years.  All  the  worst  passions  of  the 


The  Massacre  Goes  On.  69 

human  heart  were  let  loose ;  but  their  one  wild 
cry  was  blood !  blood ! 

On  that  terrible  Sabbath,*  blood  reeked  from 
the  principal  streets  of  Paris,  as  from  a  field  of 
battle.  The  bodies  of  the  slaughtered,  of  men,  of 
women,  of  children,  of  infants,  were  heaped  to¬ 
gether  into  carts,  and  so  carried  down  and  thrown 
into  the  river,  in  which  they  might  be  seen  every¬ 
where  floating  and  tumbling,  while  its  waters  were 
turned  red  by  the  blood  that  flowed  from  them. 
The  general  description  which  de  Thou  gives  us 
of  the  horrors  of  the  scene,  is  exceedingly  striking. 

“  The  people,”  he  says,  “  incited  against  their 
fellow-countrymen  by  the  captains  and  lieutenants 
of  the  city  guard,  who  were  flying  about  in  all 
directions,  rioted  in  the  phrenzy  of  a  boundless 
license,  and  all  things  wore  an  aspect  of  woe 
and  affright.  The  streets  resounded  with  the  up¬ 
roar  of  the  crowds  rushing  on  to  slaughter  and 
iflunder,  while  ever  and  anon  the  lamenting  cries 
of  persons  dying  or  in  peril,  met  the  ear,  or  the 
*  St.  Bartholomew’s  Day,  August  24tli,  fell  on  Sunday. 


70  True  Stories  from  History. 

carcasses  of  those  who  had  been  murdered  were 
seen  tossed  forth  from  the  windows  of  their  dwell¬ 
ings.  The  courts,  and  even  the  inner  apartments 
of  many  houses,  were  filled  with  the  slain ;  dead 
bodies  were  rolled  or  dragged  along  the  mire  of 
the  highways ;  the  bloody  puddle  overflowed  the 
kennels,  and  ran  down,  in  different  places,  to  the 
river ;  an  innumerable  multitude  perished,  not 
only  of  men,  but  of  women  and  children.”* 

*  Thuani  ITistoria,  vol.  iii. 


VII. 


infoilnhtal  Victims. 

T N  the  contemporary  history  of  the  times,  we 
have  many  individual  pictures  of  suffering 
and  outrage  of  the  most  atrocious  character. 
From  these  we  select  a  few,  in  order  to  convey  a 
clearer  idea  of  the  horrors  of  this  infamous  mas- 
.sacre. 

The  attendants  of  Coligny  and  the  Protestant 
gentlemen  who  resided  in  his  house,  fled  —  as 
before  stated — by  a  window  in  the  roof.  A  few 
-of  them  succeeded,  by  this  means,  to  elude  their 
^pursuers,  for  a  time.  Among  these  was  the  young 
Teligny,  recently  married  to  the  daughter  of  the 
Admiral — a  gentleman  of  distinguished  qualiflca- 
tions,  and  universally  regarded  by  his  party  with 
the  warmest  attachment.  He  had  been  observed 
making  Ids  way  along  the  roof  of  a  house  by 


72  True  Stories  from  History. 

several  persons  belonging  to  tlie  Court.  But, 
although  he  was  one  of  those  whom  they  had 
been  particularly  charged  not  to  allow  to  escape, 
they  could  not  find  it  in  their  heart  to  kill  him,  so 
much  beloved  was  he  by  all  to  whom  he  was 
known.  He  was  afterwards  discovered  by  some  sol¬ 
diers  in  a  garret,  and  even  they,  upon  learning  his 
name,  went  .away,  and  left  him  unharmed.  But 
some  other  soldiers,  belonging  to  the  guard  of 
the  Duke  of  Anjou,  coming  shortly  after  to  the 
place  where  he  was  hid,  despatched  him  and 
several  persons  of  the  Admiral’s  suite  who  were 
with  him.  This  they  did,  it  is  said,  at  the  com¬ 
mand  of  their  captain, — a  person  who  had  been, 
heretofore,  the  familiar  friend  of  Teligny.  But 

all  such  connections  between  those  not  profess- 

• 

ing  the  same  faith,  were  now  broken  and  for¬ 
gotten. 

Among  others  who  perished  was  Peter  Ramus, 
one  of  the  most  intrepid  spirits  of  modern  times, 
and  whose  whole  life  nearly  had  been  as  stormy  as 
its  termination  was  now  miserable.  He  was,  at 


Individual  Victims.  73 

this  time,  Professor  of  Philosophy  and  Eloquence 
in  the  College  of  Presles,  which  stood  in  the 
south-eastern  quarter  of  the  city.  He  had  held 
this  dignity  for  more  than  twenty  years,  although 
the  civil  commotions  by  which  the  kingdom  had 
so  long  been  agitated  had  frequently  compelled 
him  to  retire  for  a  season  from  the  performance 
of  his  duties.  He  had,  however,  returned  to 
Paris,  and  to  his  academic  sanctuary,  on  the  gen¬ 
eral  pacification  of  1570.  Being  a  zealous  oppo¬ 
nent  not  only  of  the  ancient  religion,  but  likewise 
of  the  philosophy  which  had  long  reigned  in  the 
schools,  he  was  regarded  with  peculiar  enmity  by 
the  adherents  of  the  prevailing  faith.  It  is  said 
that  the  murderers  were  sent  to  his  college,  within 
which  he  had  concealed  himself,  by  one  Jacques 

l 

Charpentier,  his  personal  enemy.  Being  found 
by  them,  he  offered  to  purchase  his  life  by  the 
payment  of  a  considerable  sum  of  money.  Never¬ 
theless,  he  was  massacred,  and  thrown  from  the 
window  of  a  high  chamber  to  the  ground ;  after 
which  they  dragged  him  along  the  streets,  the 


74  True  Stories  from  History. 

body  being  all  the  while  scourged  by  some 
scholars,  spurred  on  by  their  masters  to  this 
indignity. 

Although,  as  has  been  said,  the  victims  in  gen¬ 
eral  made  scarcely  any  attempt  even  to  defend 
themselvres,  still  several  instances  occurred  in 
which  the  person  attacked  did  not  fall  before  he 
had  maintained  a  severe  struggle  with  his  assail¬ 
ants.  Among  others  was  the  Sieur  de  Guerchy, 
who,  wrapping  his  mantle  round  his  arm,  fought 
with  his  sword,  the  only  weapon  he  had,  till  he 
sunk  under  the  blows  that  fell  upon  him  from 
all  sides. 

Tavervy,  also,  a  lieutenant  of  the  Patrole,  when 
the  blood-thirsty  mob  attacked  his  house,  de¬ 
fended  himself,  by  the  assistance  of  one  of  his 
soldiers,  with  great  bravery,  as  long  as  his  ammu¬ 
nition  lasted.  He  was  at  last,  however,  over¬ 
powered.  Being  killed,  and  his  furniture  and 
jewels  carried  off,  the  soldiers  seized  upon  his 
sister  who  was  in  bed,  sick  and  at  the  point  of 
death,  and  dragged  her  naked  through  the  streets, 


Individual  Victims.  75 

till  she  breathed  her  last  under  their  torturing 
hands. 

But  we  cannot  afford  space  for  any  more  of 
these  horrid  relations.  Of  the  persons  massacred, 
the  greater  number  were  killed  with  daggers  and 
poniards.  These  were  treated  with  least  cruelty. 
Many  of  those  who  met  death  otherwise  were 
cruelly  tortured — mutilated  of  their  limbs,  mocked 
and  outraged  by  torments  still  sharper  than  the 
points  of  the  swords  with  which  they  were  pierced. 
Several  old  men  being  seized  and  brought  down 
to  the  river,  were  first  knocked  on  the  head 
against  the  stones  of  the  quay,  and  then  thrown 
half  dead  into  the  water.  In  one  of  the  streets  a 
number  of  boys  of  nine  or  ten  years  of  age  were 
seen  dragging  about  an  infant  yet  in  swaddling- 
clothes,  by  a  rope  tied  round  its  neck.  Another 
little  child,  on  being  laid  hold  of,  began  to  laugh 
and  to  play  with  the  beard  of  the  stranger  in 
whose  arms  it  found  itself.  But  the  monster,  un¬ 
touched  by  its  simple  innocence,  thrust  his  dagger 
into  its  bosom,  and  then  tossed  it  from  him  into 


76  True  Stories  from  History. 

the  river.  “The  paper  would  weep” — says  the 
chronicler — “  if  I  were  to  recite  the  horrible  blas¬ 
phemies  which  were  uttered  by  these  monsters 
and  incarnate  devils  during  the  fury  of  so  many 
slaughters.  The  uproar,  the  continual  sound  of 
arquebuses  and  pistols,  the  lamentable  and  af¬ 
frighting  cries  of  those  in  agony,  the  vociferations 

% 

of  the  murderers,  the  dead  bodies  thrown  from 
the  windows,  or  dragged  through  the  mire  with 
strange  bootings  and  hissings,  the  stones  which 
were  thrown  against  them,  and  the  pillaging  of 
more  than  six  hundred  houses — all  this,  long  con¬ 
tinued,  c^uld  only  present  to  the  eyes  of  the 
reader  a  perpetual  image  of  extreme  misery  in  all 
its  forms.”  * 

By  the  fortunate  mismanagement  of  the  person 
charged  with  the  conduct  of  the  massacre  in  the 
Faubourg  St.  Germain,  the  greater  number  of  Pro¬ 
testants  lodged  in  that  quarter  of  the  city  were 
providentially  enabled  to  effect  their  escape. 
Among  these  were  the  Sieur  de  Fontenay,  the 

*  Memoires  de  l’Estat,  i.  313. 


Individual  Victims. 


77 


Vidame  of  Cliatres,  the  Count  of  Montgomery, 
and  many  other  noblemen  and  gentlemen  of  dis¬ 
tinction. 

They  first  received  intelligence  of  what  was  go¬ 
ing  forward  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  about 
five  o’clock  in  the  morning,  when  a  man,  who  had 
come  across  in  a  boat,  brought  them  the  accounts 
of  the  extraordinarjf  state  in  which  the  town  was. 
Disbelieving  the  assertion  of  their  informer  that 
the  atrocities  which  he  reported  were  perpetrated 
by  the  order  of  the  King,  and  convinced  that  his 
Majesty  himself  must  be  in  danger  from  the  au¬ 
thors  of  the  massacre  of  their  Protestant  brethren, 
many  of  them  were  on  the  point  of  proceeding 
across  the  river  with  the  intention  of  lending  their 
aid  to  protect  the  royal  person  and  authority.  But 
they  soon  had  reason  to  repent  their  rashness. 
While  about  to  step  into  the  boats  they  saw  ap¬ 
proaching  them  from  the  opposite  side,  about  two 
hundred  soldiers  of  the  King’s  Guard,  who  imme¬ 
diately  discharged  upon  them  a  volley  of  musket¬ 
ry.  Looking  up  they  beheld  Charles  himself  at 


78  True  Stories  from  History. 

the  window  of  the  Hotel  de  Bourbon,  not  only 
encouraging  the  soldiers,  but  joining  them  in  the 
attack.  He  was  firing  as  fast  as  the  guns  could  be 
handed  to  him,  and  calling  out  to  the  men  below, 
with  passionate  imprecations,  to  make  all  haste,  as 
the  Huguenots  were  already  taking  flight. 

On  observing  this  they  lost  not  a  moment  in 
attempting  their  escape ;  and  some  on  foot,  some 
on  horseback,  though  many  of  those  who  were 
mounted  were  without  boots  or  spurs;  they  fled  in 
all  directions,  no  one  thinking  of  saving  anything 
else  but  his  life.  The  soldiers  rushing  into  their 
houses,  pillaged  them  of  whatever  they  contained, 
and  massacred,  at  the  same  time,  many  of  the  in¬ 
habitants  who  had  not  time  to  make  their  escape. 

The  slaughter  continued  without  intermission 
till  five  o’clock  in  the  afternoon,  when  proclama¬ 
tion  was  made  by  sound  of  trumpet  in  the  King’s 
name,  commanding  all  the  citizens  to  retire  to 
their  houses.  But  at  an  early  hour  on  the  follow¬ 
ing  morning,  the  populace,  refreshed  by  their  few 
hours  of  rest,  recommenced  their  bloody  work. 


Individual  Victims. 


79 


During  the  whole  of  that  day  and  the  next,  the 
butchery  of  the  unhappy  Huguenots  was  carried 
on  with  undiminished  ferocity,  the  infuriated  rab- 
ble  only  stopping  at  last  when  they  could  find  no 
more  victims  to  destroy. 

Meanwhile  the  couriers  which  had  been  de¬ 
spatched  to  the  provinces  with  letters  from  the 
King  to  the  several  governors,  had  advertised  them 
of  what  was  passing  in  the  capital,  and  directed 
them  to  follow  the  same  course  with  regard  to  the 
persons  belonging  to  the  obnoxious  faith  in  the 
principal  towns  of  their  respective  districts.  The 
consequence  was  that  the  same  melancholy  scenes 
which  had  been  acted  in  Paris  were  repeated  in 
many  parts  of  France.  At  Meaux,  at  Troyes,  at 
Orleans,  at  Bourges,  at  Lyons,  at  Toulouse,  at 
Rouen,  at  Bordeaux,  and  in  various  other  places, 
the  mob,  encouraged  and  assisted  by  the  authori¬ 
ties,  committed  the  wildest  excesses  of  bloodshed 
and  spoliation. 

After  the  massacre  was  over,  it  became  the 
object  of  the  Court,  in  order  to  rid  itself  of  the 


80  True  Stories  from  History. 


odium  attaching  to  so  foul  a  treachery,  to  make  it 
appear  that  the  blood  which  had  flowed  so  pro¬ 
fusely,  had  been  shed  only  in  self-defence,  inas¬ 
much  as  a  conspiracy  of  the  Huguenots  had  been, 
in  fact,  on  the  eve  of  breaking  out,  when  its 
authors  were  thus  suddenly  overpowered  and 
destroyed.  The  papers  of  Coligny  had  been  ex¬ 
amined  in  vain  for  anything  which  could  be 
brought  forward  as  affording  even  a  shadow  of 
proof  of  this  pretended  plot.  Another  expedient 
was,  therefore,  resorted  to.  Two  eminent  individ¬ 
uals  of  the  Protestant  party,  Cavagnes,  a  counsel¬ 
lor  of  the  Parliament  of  Toulouse,  and  Briquemaut, 
a  retired  military  officer  of  rank,  both  persons  of 
venerable  age,  having  been  thrown  into  prison 
during  the  massacre,  were  brought  to  trial  on  the 
charge  of  having  been  implicated  with  the  Admiral 
in  the  treason  for  which  he  suffered  death.  The 
judges  before  whom  they  were  brought  in  the  first 
instance,  finding  that  no  evidence  was  produced 
against  them  except  the  assertions  of  their  accus¬ 
ers,  had  the  courage  to  refuse  to  declare  them 


Individual  Victims, 


81 


guilt}r.  A  more  compliant  tribunal,  however,  was 
subsequently  found.  After  an  unsuccessful  at¬ 
tempt  had  been  made  to  seduce  them  into  a  confess¬ 
ion,  by  a  promise  that  their  lives  should  be  saved, 
sentence  of  death,  confiscation  of  goods,  and  at¬ 
tainder  was  pronounced  against  them.  They  were 
accordingly  dragged  on  hurdles  from  the  prison  of 
the  Conciergerie  to  the  Plaee  de  Gr&ve,  and  there 
hanged.  These  unfortunate  persons  had  been  well 
known  to  Charles,  who  had  been  wont  to  make 
them  many  professions  of  his  favor  and  respect. 
Both  he  and  his  mother,  however,  chose  to  regale 
their  eyes  with  the  sight  of  the  agonies  of  the 
dying  men.  For  this  purpose  the  King  left  the 
bedside  of  his  young  consort,  the  beautiful  and 
admirable  Elizabeth  of  Austria,  who  had  that 
morning  presented  him  with  a  daughter,  the  first 
fruit  of  their  union,  and  also  the  last,  Having 
arrived  at  an  early  hour  in  the  evening  at  the 
Hotel  de  Ville,  the  royal  guests  sat  down  to  a 
sumptuous  repast  in  the  great  hall  of  that  building, 

the  windows  of  which  overlooked  the  place  of  exe- 

6 


82  True  Stories  from:  History.. 

eution.  That  the  party  might  have  time  to  enjoy 
the  preliminary  entertainment  provided  for  them, 
the  performance  of  the  fatal  ceremony  was  delajmd 
till  ten  o’clock,  although  the  gray -haired  prisoners, 
sitting  hound  and  bareheaded  on  their  hurdles, 
were  exposed,  during  a  great  part  of  this  interval, 
to  sufferings  much  worse  than  death  from  the  piti¬ 
less  and  immitigable  hate  of  the  individuals  around 
the  scaffold.  At  last,  at  the  hour  we  have  men¬ 
tioned,  the  windows  of  the  hall  were  thrown  open, 
and  Charles,  with  his  mother  and  his  two  brothers, 
having  advanced  in  the  midst  of  a  blaze  of  torches, 
the  executioner  proceeded  to  his  horrid  task,  while 
they  looked  on  with  fixed,  attention. 


yiii. 


giui  founts  af  tlrt  SUssarr*. 

LTHOUGH  the  general  carnage  at  Paris  ter- 


minated  after  tlie  first  three  days,  individuals 
continued  to  be  occasionally  fallen  upon  and  put 
to  death  nearly  throughout  the  week.  After  the 
cessation  of  the  massacre,  the  city  presented  a 
hideous  aspect.  In  many  of  the  principal  streets, 
the  pillaged  bodies  and  separated  limbs  of  the 
slaughtered  still  lay  putrefying  on  the  ground. 
These  disgusting  relics  crowded  especially  the 
banks  of  the  river,  along  which  a  sort  of  market 
was  established,  where  the  relations  of  the  dead 
might  be  seen  bargaining  for  the  corpses  with 
those  who  had  dragged  them  from  the  river. 
Many,  however,  were  carried  down  by  the  current 
beyond  the  bounds  of  the  city.  Between  the  fifth 
and  thirteenth  of  September,  no  fewer  than  eleven 


84,  True  Stories  from  History. 

hundred  bodies  were  cast  ashore  and  interred  in 
the  neighborhood  of  -St.  Cloud,  Auteuil,  and 
Chaillot.  More  than  a  month  elapsed  before  all 
the  dead  were  removed  from  the  streets ;  and  even 
at  the  distance  of  more  than  a  year,  bodies  were 
occasionally  found  on  the  roofs  of  houses,  in 
cellars,  or  other  less-frequented  places.  The  blood 
of  Coligny  is  said  to  have  remained  distinguish¬ 
able  on  the  wall  of  his  hotel  for  more  than  a  cen¬ 
tury.  “There  are  old  men  still  alive”- — says  a 
French  writer  in  1826 — “  who  affirm  that  they 
have  known  persons  who  had  seen  and  touched 
that  blood.” 

The  numbers  of  those  who  perished  in  this  ter¬ 
rible  convulsion  have,  as  was  to  be  expected  in  a 
case  so  much  open  to  conjecture,  been  variously 
estimated.  They  have  been  set  down  at  from 
thirty  thousand  to  one  hundred  thousand.  It  is 
probably  near  the  truth  to  estimate  them  at  fifty 
thousand.  Those  who  survived  were  for  a  mo¬ 
ment  stupefied  by  the  blow,  and  the  Papists  them¬ 
selves  seemed  paralyzed  with  shame  and  remorse. 


Incidents  of  t n e  Massacre.  85 

Charles  was  as  one  struck  by  avenging  retribution, 
lie  became  restless,  sullen,  and  dejected,  and 
labored  under  a  slow  fever  to  the  day  of  his 
death. 

The  lives  of  the  young  Prince  of  Conde  and 
Henry  of  Navarre  had  been  spared  on  condition 
of  their  embracing  the  Romish  faith.  To  this 
they  merely  pretended  to  accede,  as  both  at¬ 
tempted  to  escape  from  Paris  immediately  after¬ 
wards.  Conde  alone  was  successful,  and  placed 
himself  at  the  head  of  the  Huguenots;  and  this 
party,  which  Charles  had  hoped  to  exterminate  at 
one  blow,  soon  mustered  an  army  of  eighteen 
thousand  men,  who  kept  possession  of  Rochelle, 
Montauban,  and  many  castles,  fortresses,  and 
smaller  towns.  Thus  Charles,  and  Catherine,  his 
mother,  gained  nothing  by  their  infamous  treach¬ 
ery,  but  a  character  for  perfidy  and  cruelty  which 
has  been  unequalled  in  the  annals  of  history. 

Some  of  the  most  eminent  among  the  intended 
victims  were  fortunate  enough,  through  various 
providences,  to  escape  the  fate  which  involved  so 


86  True  Stories  from  History. 

many  of  tlieir  friends.  "W e  have  already  detailed 
tlie  circumstances  to  which  the  lords  and  gentle¬ 
men  lodged  in  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain,  were 
indebted  for  their  preservation.  Others  were 
saved  by  having  withdrawn  from  the  capital  alto¬ 
gether,  before  the  fatal  day,  in  consequence  of  the 
apprehensions  they  entertained,  or  by  having  de¬ 
clined  to  come  hither  at  all. 

Among  others  whom  a  kind  Providence  pro¬ 
tected  was  young  Bethune,  a  son  of  the  Sieur  de 
Kosny,  whom  his  father  had  placed  in  the  service 
of  the  Prince  of  Navarre.  He  was  only  in  his 
twelfth  year,  and  as  soon  as  he  was  -left  in  Paris, 
he  proceeded  to  apply  himself  to  the  studies  suited 
to  his  age,  for  which  purpose  his  residence  had 
been  fixed  on  the  south  side  of  the  river,  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  colleges.  On  the  night  of  the 
twenty-third,  he  had  retired  early,  intending  to 
rise  in  the  morning  somewhat  sooner  than  usual, 
to  present  himself  at  Court.  About  three  o’clock 
he  was  awakened  by  the  cries  of  the  people  in.  the 
streets,  and  the  alarm-bells  which  were  ringing 


Incidents  ©f  the  Massacre.  87 

from  all  the  steeples.  Ilis  tutor  and  his  valet-de- 
chambre  had  already  both  left  the  house  to  ascer¬ 
tain  the  nature  of  the  commotion,  and  no  one  re¬ 
mained  within  except  the  landlord.  This  man 
was  a  Protestant,  but  in  this  emergency  he  ear¬ 
nestly  urged  his  youug  lodger  to  accompany  him 
to  mass,  to  save  his  house  from  pillage,  and  both 
of  them  from  being  massacred.  Instead,  however, 
of  following  this  advice,  Bethune  resolved  to  en¬ 
deavor  to  find  ljis  way  to  the  college  of  Burgundy, 
the  principal  of  which,  he  was  sure,  would  not 
refuse  him  an  asylum.  Accordingly,  putting  on 
his  scholars’-gown,  and  taking  a  book  under  his 
arm,  he  set  out.  In  the  street  he  was  stopped  by 
a  party  of  soldiers,  who  were  proceeding  to  use 
him  roughly.  But  one  of  them  having  snatched 
from  him  the  book  which  he  carried,  it  fortu¬ 
nately  turned  out  to  be  a  breviary.  The  circum¬ 
stance  immediately  procured  him  his  liberty,  and 
he  was  allowed  to  proceed  on  his  way.  lie  was 
again  detained,  in  another  street,  and  a  third 
time  at  the  entry  to  the  cloister  of  St.  Bennet,  but 


88  True  Stories  from  History. 

he  found  his  book,  on  both  occasions,  his  sufficient 
passport.  As  he  hastened  along,  however,  he  be¬ 
held  the  mob  everywhere  breaking  into  and  plun¬ 
dering  the  houses  of  the  Huguenots,  and,  with  the 
wildest  cries,  butchering  indiscriminately  men, 
women,  and  children — sights  which  could  not  fail 
to  fill  him  with  considerable  impatience  to  reach 
his  intended  place  of  refuge.  He  at  last  arrived  at 
the  gate  of  the  college,  but  here  the  porter  for 
some  time  resolutely  refused  to  give  him  admis¬ 
sion.  He  contrived,  however,  to  subdue  the 
man’s  obstinacy  by  giving  him  some  money  he 
happened  to  have  in  his  pocket,  and  he  consented 
to  carry  up  his  name  and  his  request  to  the 
principal.  That  person,  with  a  compassion  and 
courage  but  rarely  exemplified  during  this  terrible 
crisis,  immediately  came  to  the  gate  and  admit¬ 
ted  his  young  friend,  although  greatly  embar¬ 
rassed  how  to  dispose  of  him,  in  consequence  of 
there  being  two  priests  at  that  moment  in  his 
chamber,  who  had  just  been  telling  him  of  the 
design  that  had  been  formed  to  exterminate  the 


Incidents  of  the  Massacre.  89 


Huguenots,  even  to  tlie  infants  at  the  breast,  after 
the  example,  as  they  expressed  it,  of  the  Sicilian 
Vespers.  He  contrived,  however,  to  place  Bethune 
in  a  secret  apartment,  where  he  lay  concealed  for 
three  days,  no  one  even  visiting  him  except  a 
trusty  servant  of  the  principal,  who  brought  him 
his  food.  At  the  end  of  this  period,  the  general 
massacre  being  over,  two  armed  men,  sent  by  his 
father,  arrived  at  the  college  to  inquire  after  him. 
In  a  few  days  he  received  directions  from  his 
father  to  remain  at  Paris,  and  proceed  with  his 
studies,  and,  in  order  that  he  might  do  so  without 
danger,  to  go  to  mass,  as  his  royal  master  and 
many  others  had  consented  to  do. 

One  or  two  others,  as  well  as  Navarre  and 
Conde,  were  permitted  to  live  by  the  forbearance 
of  the  authors  of  the  massacre.  The  illustrious 
l’Hospital,  who,  although  he  continued  in  the  pro¬ 
fession  of  the  ancient  faith,  was  universally  sus¬ 
pected  to  be  very  nearly  a  Protestant  at  heart,  had 
resigned  the  Chancellorship  about  four  years  be¬ 
fore,  and  was  at  this  time  residing  at  his  country 


80  True  Stories  from  History. 

scat  not  far  from  Paris.  His  friends,  apprehensive 
for  his  safety,  urged  liim  either  to  fly,  or  at  least 
to  put  his  house  in  a  state  of  defence.  But, 
conscious  of  no  crime,  the  old  man  refused  to  do 
anything  which  might  seem  to  have  been  dictated 
by  a  sense  of  guilt.  Even  when  a  party  of  horse 
was  seen  advancing  upon  his  residence,  he  would 
not  permit  his  gates  to  be  closed  against  them. 
Fortunately,  however,  while  these  assailants  were 
on  the  point  of  massacring  him,  another  party 
arrived,  bringing  express  orders  from  the  King 
that  his  life  should  be  spared.  On  being  informed 
that  it  had  been  determined  to  pardon  him,  he 
coolly  replied,  “  I  did  not  know  that  I  had  done 
anything  to  deserve  either  pardon  or  punishment.” 
The  daughter  of  the  ex-Chancellor  was  at  Paris 
during  the  time  of  the  massacre,  and  she  also  had 
the  good  fortune  to  save  her  life,  through  the  pro¬ 
tection  of  the  Duchess  of  Guise. 

Another  person  whom  Charles  spared  of  his 
own  accord,  was  his  surgeon,  Ambrose  Par  <5,  who, 
as  already  mentioned,  was  in  attendance  to  dress 


Incidents  of  the  Massacre.  91 

the  wounds  of  the  Admiral  Coligny,  after  his 
attempted  assassination.  Par£,  who  was  one  of 
the  most  eminent  men  of  his  profession  of  whom 
that  age  could  boast,  lived,  although  a  Protestant, 
in  the  enjoyment  of  the  greatest  familiarity  with 
Charles.  Ou  the  evening  before  the  massacre,  the 
King  sent  for  him,  and  placing  him  in  a  room  near 
his  own  chamber,  ordered  him  to  remain  there 
without  stirring,  remarking  that  it  was  not  reason¬ 
able  that  one  so  serviceable  in  saving  the  lives  of 
others,  should  lose  his  own. 

While  the  slaughter  was  going  on,  his  Majesty 
endeavored  to  persuade  Pare  to  change  his  re¬ 
ligion.  He  is  said  to  have  replied,  boldly,  “  By 
the  light  of  God,  Sire,  I  cannot  doubt  that  you 
well  remember  having  promised,  as  the  conditions 
on  which  I  engaged  never  to  disobey  you,  that 
there  were  three  things  you  would  never  ask 
me  to  do,  namely,  to  be  present  at  a  battle, 
to  quit  your  service,  or  to  go  to  mass.’'  The 
frank  and  gay  tone  of  this  answer  seems  to 
have  put  Charles  in  a  good  humor,  and  Pare 


92  True  Stories  from  History. 

was  allowed  to  retain  liis  religion,  as  well  as  Iris 
life. 

Tlie  King  afterwards  came  to  Pare,  and  con¬ 
fessed  to  him  that  ever  since  the  commencement 
of  the  massacre,  he  had  felt  as  if  he  had  been  in  a 
high  fever,  and  that  the  figures  of  the  murdered 
people,  with  their  faces  besmeared  with  blood, 
seemed  to  start  up  every  moment  before  his  eyes, 
both  while  he  slept  and  when  he  was  awake.  On 
this  Pare  seized  the  opportunity  of  recalling  the 
royal  mind  to  sentiments  different  from  those 
which  had  recently  possessed  it,  and  the  conse¬ 
quence  was  the  appearance  of  an  edict  the  next 
day,  commanding  all  to  abstain,  on  pain  of  death, 
from  any  further  acts  of  slaughter  or  pillage. 


IX. 


fHnlin  h  Stjtrrnas. 

m  HERE  were  few  who  had  a  narrower  escape 
from  the  St.  Bartholomew  than  the  celebrated 
Philip  de  Mornay,  afterwards  so  well  known  both 
as  a  soldier,  a  politician,  and  a  man  of  letters- 
Although  at  this  time  only  in  his  twenty-third 
year,  De  Mornay  had  already  not  only  travelled 
over  a  great  part  of  Europe,  but  had  so  much  dis¬ 
tinguished  himself  by  his  exertions,  both  with 
sword  and  pen,  in  the  Protestant  cause,  as  to  have, 
in  some  sort,  taken  his  rank  among  the  leaders  of 
his  party. 

Having  returned  to  France  from  England  about 
the  end  of  July,  he  immediately  proceeded  to  Paris 
to  join  Coligny  and  the  other  Huguenot  gentle¬ 
men  who  had  assembled  to  witness  the  royal  mar¬ 
riage.  Yet,  we  are  told,  he  was  far  from  being 


94  True  Stories  from  History. 

without  apprehension  as  to  the  designs  of  the 
Court,  and  felt  so  little  sympathy  with  the  prevail¬ 
ing  feelings  of  his  party,  that  on  the  day  when  the 
nuptial  ceremony  was  performed,  he  scarcely  left  his 
lodgings.  On  the  following  Friday,  the  22d,  he  was 
preparing  to  return  to  his  country-seat,  and  had 
taken  leave  of  Coligny  with  that  intention,  when, 
soon  after,  his  German  servant  came  and  informed 
him  of  the  attempt  that  had  been  made  on  the  Ad¬ 
miral’s  life.  On  receiving  this  intelligence,  he  im¬ 
mediately  ran  out  to  the  street,  and  was  one  of 
those  who  accompanied  the  wounded  man  to  his 
hotel.  From  this  moment  his  fears  of  some  im¬ 
pending  mischief  became  stronger  than  ever.  He 
made  his  mother,  who  had  been  with  him,  take 
her  departure  for  the  country  without  further 
delay.  But  he  resolved,  notwithstanding  her  en¬ 
treaties,  to  remain  in  Paris,  and  to  share  the  fate  of 
his  friends,  whatever  it  might  be 

Following  the  example  of  many  of  the  other 
Huguenot  gentlemen,  he  now  took  apartments 
near  the  Admiral,  but  fortunately  they  could  not 


Philip  dk  Mornay. 


95 


be  got  ready  for  him  before  Monday,  and  be  was 
therefore  obliged  to  remain  till  then  at  bis  former 
lodgings.  On  returning  thither,  at  a  late  hour  on 
Saturday  night,  from  a  visit  to  Coligny,  he  was 
informed  of  certain  movements  which  had  been 
observed  among  the  soldiers  and  some  of  the  citi¬ 
zens.  Next  morning,  having  despatched  his  Ger¬ 
man  servant  before  five  o’clock  to  the  house  of  the 
Admiral,  the  man  soon  after  returned,  and  gave 
him  an  account  of  the  dreadful  state  in  which  that 
part  of  the  city  was.  lie  rose  instantly,  and 
dressed  himself  with  the  intention  of  leaving  the 
house,  but  before  he  could  get  ready,  the  mob 
were  in  the  street,  and  to  attempt  to  escape  was 
impossible.  Fortunately  his  landlord,  although  of 
the  opposite  faith,  was  disposed  to  do  everything 
in  his  power  to  save  him.  lie  had  just  time  to 
burn  his  papers  before  the  party  who  had  been 
sent  to  seek  for  him  found  their  way  to  his  apart¬ 
ments,  and  he  was  enabled  to  elude  their  search 
by  concealing  himself  till  they  took  their  depart¬ 
ure.  That  day  he  was  not  again  molested,  but  on 


96  True  Stories  from  History. 

the  following  morning  his  landlord  informed  him 
that  the  frenzy  of  the  populace  had  broken  out 
anew,  and  that  it  was  no  longer  in  his  power  to 
shelter  him.  By  this  time  the  murderers  were  in 
the  neighboring  house,  the  master  of  which  they 
massacred,  and  afterwards  threw  his  body  out  of 
one  of  the  windows. 

On  hearing  this,  Be  Mornay,  putting  on  a  black 
dress,  of  a  very  plain  fashion,  and  his  sword,  im¬ 
mediately  descended  to  the  street,  and  had  the  good 
fortune  to  escape  notice,  while  the  mob  were  still 
engaged  in  pillaging  the  adjacent  house.  Having 
crossed  the  river  he  proceeded  onward,  not,  how¬ 
ever,  without  frequent  exposure  to  the  greatest  dan¬ 
ger.  His  intention  was  to  take  refuge  with  an  at¬ 
torney  by  the  name  of  Girard,  who  used  to  manage 
the  affairs  of  his  family,  and  who  would  not,  he 
trusted,  refuse  him  an  asylum.  On  arriving  at  the 
house  he  found  Girard  himself  standing  at  the  door. 
The  moment  was  a  critical  one,  for  the  Captain  of 
the  Watch  was  just  passing.  However,  Girard 
had  the  presence  of  mind  to  receive  him  in  such  a 


Philip  dr  Mornat. 


97 


manner  as  to  occasion  no  suspicion.  Haying 
entered  the  house,  he  took  his  place  at  a  desk,  and 
employed  himself  in  writing,  like  the  other  clerks. 
Unfortunately,  however,  the  persons  belonging  to 
his  household  had  conjectured  that  this  house 
would  be  his  hiding-place,  and  thither  they  came, 
one  after  another,  to  seek  for  him  or  to  share  his 
retreat.  This  was  soon  remarked,  and  during  the 
night  an  order  came  to  Girard  to  deliver  up  the 
person  whom  he  kept  concealed  in  his  house.  To 
remain  here  longer,  therefore,  was  impossible.  At 
an  early  hour  in  the  morning,  he  set  out  alone  to 
endeavor  to  escape  from  the  city,  or  to  find  some 
other  place  of  retreat.  As  he  was  leaving  the 
house,  a  young  man  who  had  been  his  clerk  came 
up  to  him,  and,  greatly  to  his  comfort,  offered  to 
get  him  out  by  the  Porte  St.  Martin,  where  he  was 
known  to  the  soldiers  on  guard,  having  formerly 
been  one  of  them.  On  reaching  this  gate,  how¬ 
ever,  they  found  to  their  dismay  that  orders  had 
been  given  that  it  should  not  be  opened  that 

morning.  They  were  therefore  obliged  to  proceed 

7 


98  True  Stories  from  History, 

to  the  adjoining  Porte  St.  Denis,  with  the  guard 
of  which  the  clerk  had  no  more  acquaintance  than 
De  Mornay  himself,  and  where  it  does  not  appear 
that  the  latter  was  likely  to  derive  any  advantage- 
whatever  from  the  presence  of  his  companion,  if, 
indeed,  the  circumstance  of  that  person  being  only 
in  his  slippers  should  not  rather  expose  them  to 
greater  risk  of  detention.  However,  to  the  Porte 
St.  Denis  they  went,  and,  after  being  questioned, 
were  actually  allowed  to  pass — De  Mornay  having 
represented  himself  as  an  attorney’s  clerk,  who 
had  got  leave  from  his  master  to  go,  during  the 
vacation,  to  Eouen,  his  native  place,  to  see  his 
relations.  But  the  unlucky  slippers  were  destined, 
after  all,  to  work  them  the  very  mischief  that  De 
Mornay  had  feared.  They  had  not  been  long 
gone,  when  it  occurred  to  one  of  the  guard  that 
this  was  rather  a  strange  attire  for  a  person  about 
to  make  so  long  a  journey  as  to  Eouen.  The  man 
having  mentioned  his  suspicions  to  his  comrades, 
it  was  instantly  resolved  to  despatch  four  armed 
men  after  the  fugitives.  They  were  overtaken 


Philip  de  Mornay.  99 

near  the  village  of  La  Vilette,  and  immediately 
brought  back  in  the  hands  of  a  mob  of  the  coun¬ 
try  people,  who  could  hardly  be  prevented  from 
tearing  the  prisoners  to  pieces  on  the  way.  The 
clerk,  by  his  conduct,  added  not  a  little  to  the 
danger.  Entirely  losing  his  presence  of  mind  as 
they  dragged  his  master  along,  with  the  avowed 
intention  of  throwing  him  into  the  river,  he  swore 
vehemently  that  De  Mornay  was  no  Huguenot — 
thus  effectually  revealing  who  the  captive  was. 
With  more  prudence  De  Mornay  himself  barely 
remarked  that  he  was  convinced  they  would  be 
sorry  to  put  an  innocent  man  to  death  from  having 
mistaken  him  for  another  person,  and  assured  them 
that,  if  they  would  take  him  into  some  house,  he 
W'ould  give  them  such  references  to  persons  in  the 
city  as  would  satisfy  them  on  inquiry  that  the 
account  he  had  given  of  himself  was  correct.  He 
at  last  prevailed  upon  them  to  comply  with  his 
request,  and  some  of  them  accompanied  him  into 
a  house  in  the  suburbs.  But  now  that  he  had 


100  True  Stories  from  History. 

obtained  this  reprieve,  he  hardly  knew  how  to 
avail  himself  of  it. 

At  first  he  thought  of  throwing  himself  out  of 
the  window,  but  on  reflection  resolved  to  make  an 
attempt  to  get  out  of  their  hands  by  sheer  assur¬ 
ance,  and,  when  they  asked  for  his  promised  refer¬ 
ences,  he  boldly  named,  as  persons  to  whom  he 
was  well  known,  the  Messieurs  de  Rambouillet  and 
the  Cardinal,  their  brother.  This  he  did,  partly 
in  the  hope  of  overawing  them  somewhat  by  these 
imposing  names,  but  principally  because  he  knew 
they  could  not  easily  find  access  to  personages  of 
such  rank,  and  would  therefore,  he  imagined,  be 
forced  to  take  his  asserted  acquaintanceship  on 
trust.  But  those  with  whom  he  had  to  deal  were 
not  to  be  so  put  off.  Considering,  probably,  that 
an  attorney’s  clerk  could  hardly  be  altogether 
without  some  friends  of  lower  degree  than  nobles 
and  cardinals,  they  insisted  upon  his  giving  them 
other  references.  At  this  moment  the  wagon 
from  Rouen  made  its  appearance.  As  he  had  said 
that  he  belonged  to  that  city,  some  one  proposed 


Philip  de  Morn  ay. 


101 


to  stop  the  vehicle  in  order  to  see  if  any  of  the 
persons  in  it  knew  anything  of  him.  When  they 
found  that  none  of  the  passengers  had  ever  heard 
of  his  name,  their  conviction  that  he  was  an  im¬ 
postor  became  more  confirmed  than  ever,  and  the 
cry  to  have  him  thrown  into  the  river  was  raised 
again  with  renewed  violence. 

Some  further  contention  consumed  a  little  more 
time,  and  while  they  were  yet  wrangling,  two 
messengers  whom,  on  De  Mornay’s  reference,  they 
had  sent  off  to  Girard,  returned  with  his  answer. 
De  Mornay  had  written  on  an  open  note  to  him 
these  words, — “  Sir,  I  am  detained  by  the  people 
of  the  Porte  and  Faubourg  of  St.  Denis,  who  will 
not  believe  that  I  am  Philip  Mornay,  your  clerk, 
to  whom  you  have  given  leave  to  go  to  see  his 
relations  at  Kouen  during  the  vacation.  I  beg 
you  will  certify  to  them  the  truth  of  this  state¬ 
ment,  that  they  may  permit  me  to  proceed  on  my 
journey.”  Girard  wrote  on  the  back  of  the  note 
the  desired  attestation,  with  the  assurance  that  the 
individual  in  their  hands  was  neither  a  rebel  nor 


102  True  Stories  from  History. 

a  seditious  person,  and  subscribed  bis  signature. 
The  suspicions  they  bad  entertained  were,  there¬ 
fore,  removed,  and  they  resolved  not  only  to  set 
him  free,  but,  by  making  some  amends  for  the  in¬ 
justice,  to  escort  him  back  to  the  spot  where  they 
had  apprehended  him.  He  got  out  of  their  hands 
at  last  about  nine  o’clock,  and  lost  no  time  in  pur¬ 
suing  his  journey. 

At  Chantilly  he  obtained  a  horse  from  his 
friend,  Montmorency,  one  of  the  few  who  had  es¬ 
caped  the  massacre  by  leaving  Paris  in  time,  un¬ 
der  the  apprehension  of  the  impending  treachery. 
At  last,  though  not  without  some  other  perils  and 
providential  escapes,  he  arrived  in  safety  at  bis 
estate  in  Normandy,  on  Friday  the  twent}T-ninth. 
Here;  however,  he  found  his  family  and  establish¬ 
ment  dispersed,  his  mother  having  been  obliged  to 
take  refuge  in  the  house  of  a  neighbor.  In  the 
course  of  a  few  days  he  embarked  at  Dieppe 
for  England,  and  after  encountering  a  severe  storm, 
which  at  one  time  threatened  to  drive  them  back 
to  Calais,  and  the  terrors  of  which  were  augmented 


Philip  de  Mobnay. 


103 


by  the  cries  of  numbers  of  women  and  children, 
flying  like  himself,  from  the  blood-drenched  land 
of  their  birth,  he  reached  the  port  of  Eye,  on  the 
ninth  day  after  the  massacre. 


X. 


SJabatiu  be  Jintpms, 


HE  foregoing  narrative  of  the  escape  of  De 


L  Mornay  is  derived  from  the  account given 
ns  "by  Madame  de  Feuqueres,  who  afterwards  be¬ 
came  his  wife.  This  lady,  the  widow  of  M.  de 
Feuqueres,  was  also  in  Paris  during  the  St.  Bar¬ 
tholomew,  and  the  dangers  to  which  she  was  her¬ 
self  exposed,  were  still  more  formidable.  Her  hus¬ 
band  had  died  of  a  wound  received  in  battle  about 
three  years  before,  leaving  with  his  young  widow  a 
daughter  six  months  old.  Soon  after  this  she  lost 
her  father  and  her  sister,  and  the  father  of  her  late 
husband.  To  add  to  her  distresses,  she  had  been 
stripped  of  all  her  property  by  the  civil  confusions 
of  the  time,  and  was  almost  without  the  means  of 

*  MfSmoirea  et  Correspondanee  de  Duplessis-Mornay.  Paris, 


i824. 


Madame  de  Feuqueres.  105 

existence.  This  load  of  suffering  broke  down  her 
health,  which  she  never  afterwards  entirely  recov¬ 
ered.  At  length,  on  the  conclusion  of  the  peace 
of  1570,  she  came  to  Paris  with  her  daughter,  on 
the  invitation  of  her  mother,  who  continued  in  the 
profession  of  the  ancient  religion,  although  the  rest 
of  the  family  had  embraced  the  principles  of  the 
Reformation.  From  this  time  she  had  remained 
in  the  French  capital. 

On  the  morning  of  the  Sunday  on  Avliich  the 
massacre  commenced,  she  was  Still  in  bed,  when 
one  of  the  maid-servants,  who  was  a  Protestant, 
came  running  into  her  room  in  a  state  of  great 
terror,  to  inform  her  that  in  the  heart  of  the  town, 
where  she  had  just  been,  the  mob  were  killing 
everybody.  Without  feeling  any  great  alarm, 
Madame  de  Feuqueres— who  had  intended  to  go 
that  day  to  the  Louvre,  to  take  leave  of  the  Prin¬ 
cess  of  Condo,  and  some  others  of  her  friends, 
preparatory  to  her  proposed  departure  to  the 
provinces — rose  and  put  on  her  dress,  when  look¬ 
ing  from  her  window,  she  perceived  the  whole 


106  True  Stories  from  History. 

street  in  commotion.  Parties  of  military  were 
mixed  with  tlie  crowd,  and  all  wore  white  crosses 
in  their  hats. 

Convinced  now  of  the  reality  of  her  danger,  she 
sent  off  to  her  mother,  with  whom  her  brother 
also  lived,  to  inquire  the  meaning  of  the  disturb¬ 
ance.  Meanwhile,  a  message  was  brought  her 
from  her  maternal  uncle,  the  Bishop  of  Senlis, 
who  desired  her  to  put  out  of  the  way  whatever 
articles  she  had  of  greatest  value,  and  promised 
that  he  would  immediately  send  some  one  to  find 
her.  This,  however,  the  Bishop  forgot  to  do,  or 
else  found  it  impossible.  After  waiting,  therefore, 
for  about  half  an  hour,  and  seeing  the  rioters  fast 
approaching,  she  deemed  it  best  to  send  off  her 
daughter  by  a  female  servant  to  an  officer  in  the 
king’s  household,  who  was  a  relation  and  one  of 
her  best  friends.  This  gentleman  received  the 
child,  and  also  sent  to  its  mother  to  say  that,  if  she 
chose,  he  would  give  her  too  an  asylum.  She 
gladly  accepted  this  offer,  and  leaving  her  lodg¬ 
ings  for  that  purpose,  about  eight  o’clock,  she  had 


Madame  de  Feuqueres.  107 

scarcely  gone  when  a  part  of  the  mob  entered  her 
house,  in  search  of  her.  When  they  could  not 
find  their  expected  victim,  they  proceeded  to  pil¬ 
lage  the  house.  In  the  meantime,  other  Protestant 
friends  came  one  after  another,  to  claim  the  pro¬ 
tection  of  the  same  roof  which  sheltered  her,  till  at 
length  about  forty  persons  were  concealed  in  the 
house.  Lest  suspicion  should  be  excited  by  the 
purchase  of  the  unusual  quantity  of  provisions  re¬ 
quired  for  so  many  guests,  they  sent  for  what 
articles  they  wanted  to  another  part  of  the  town. 
All  these  precautions,  however,  proved  eventually 
insufficient  to  ward  off  the  apprehended  danger. 
On  Tuesday  it  was  ordered  that  the  house  should 
be  searched.  By  this  time,  fortunately,  the  greater 
number  of  those  who  had  crowded  to  it  on  the 
first  breaking  out  of  the  massacre,  had  left,  and 
taken  refuge  elsewhere,  so  that  there  only  re¬ 
mained  Madame  de  F.  and  another  lady,  with 
their  attendants.  In  the  extremity  which  had  now 
arrived,  she  was  forced  to  conceal  herself  in  a  loft 
above  a  granary,  where  her  ears  were  pierced  by 


108  True  Stories  from  History. 


the  wild  cries  of  men,  women,  and  children,  whom 
they  were  butchering  in  the  streets,  and  she  was 
thrown,  she  tells  us,  into  such  perplexity  and  de¬ 
spair  that  she  was  at  times  tempted  to  rush  down' 
from  her  hiding-place,  and  deliver  herself  up  at 
once  into  the  hands  of  the  infuriated  populace. 

What  principally  distracted  her  was  the  thought 
of  her  daughter,  whom  she  had  been  obliged  to 
leave  below,  in  the  charge  of  a  servant.  This  per¬ 
son,  however,  succeeded  in  conveying  the  child, 
through  the  midst  of  numerous  dangers,  to  the 
house  of  a  relation  of  its  mother,  with  whom  it 
remained  in  safety.  But  it  was  now  judged  advis¬ 
able  that  Madame  de  F.  also  should,  as  soon  as 
possible,  leave  her  present  asylum.  It  was  impos¬ 
sible  for  her  to  venture  to  her  mother’s  residence, 
as  a  guard  had  been  placed  round  the  house.  She 
therefore  resolved,  as  her  only  resource,  to  throw 
herself  upon  the  compassion  of  a  person  who  had, 
some  time  before,  married  one  of  her  maid-ser¬ 
vants,  and  who  was  now  captain  of  the  watch  in 
his  quarter,  and  in  that  character  one  of  the  com- 


i 


Madame  de  Feuqueres.  109 

missioned  agents  of  the  massacre.  This  man  gave 
her  admission,  and  permitted  her  to  remain  in  his 
house  all  the  night,  though  not  without  making 
her  listen  to  many  violent  invectives  against  the 
Huguenots,  and  insisting  with  her  in  warm  terms 
to  go  to  mass. 

On  the  following  day,  at  noon,  she  left  this 
retreat,  and  set  out  to  find  her  way  to  the  house 
of  the  President  Tambonneau,  in  the  cloister  of 
Notre  Dame,  who  had  been  apprized  of  her  situa¬ 
tion  by  her  mother,  and  solicited  to  afford  her 
protection.  She  effected  her  entry  into  the  house 
without  being  observed,  and  being  placed  in  the 
study,  she  remained  there  unmolested  during  the 
rest  of  that  day  and  the  greater  part  of  the  next. 
On  the  evening  of  Thursday,  however,  information 
reached  the  family  that  the  mob  were  about  to 
visit  them.  There  was  not  a  moment  to  be  lost, 
and  the  hunted  fugitive  was  again  transferred  to 
the  house  of  a  corn-merchant,  an  acquaintance  of 
her  protector,  and  a  person  on  whose  fidelity  they 
could  rely.  Here  she  remained  till  the  following 


110  True  Stories  from  History. 

Wednesday.  She  was  concealed  in  an  upper 
chamber,  and  her  food  was  brought  to  her  by  one 
of  the  females  of  the  family,  who  concealed  it  in 
her  apron  for  fear  of  being  discovered  by  other 
inmates  of  the  house.  During  this  time  her  moth¬ 
er  had  sent  to  implore  her  to  go  to  mass,  but  she 
steadily  refused  to  yield  to  the  proposal. 

At  last  she  determined  to  make  an  attempt  by 
herself  -  to  escape  from  Paris.  On  Wednesday, 
about  eleven  o’clock  in  the  morning,  she  descended 
from  her  lurking-place,  walked  down  to  the  river, 
and  stepped  on  board  of  a  boat  which  was  going 
to  Sens.  She  soon,  however,  found  herself  ex¬ 
posed  to  more  imminent  danger  than  ever.  When 
they  reached  the  Pont  de  la  Tournelle,  the  boat 
was  stopped  by  the  guard,  and  their  passports 
demanded  from  them  on  board.  The  others 
showed  theirs,  but  Madame  de  P.  had  none.  On 
this  the  soldiers,  eagerly  exclaiming  that  she  was 
a  Huguenot,  and  must  be  drowned,  forced  her  to 
leave  the  boat.  Seeing  herself  thus  on  the  point 
of  being  put  to  death,  sh©  besought  them  to  con- 


Madame  de  Feuqueres.  Ill 

duct  her  to  the  house  of  M.  de  Voisenon,  Auditor 
of  Accounts,  who  was  one  of  her  friends,  assuring 
them  that  he  would  answer  for  her.  They  at  last 
agreed  to  comply  with  her  request,  and  two  of  their 
number  were  sent  with  her.  When  they  arrived 
at  the  house,  the  soldiers  remained  at  the  door, 
and  allowed  her  to  walk  up  stairs  alone.  She  had 
thus  an  opportunity  of  hastily  intimating  to  her 
friend  the  situation  in  which  she  was,  and  entreat¬ 
ing  his  interference  to  save  her  life.  He  imme¬ 
diately  went  down  to  the  soldiers,  and  assured  them 
that  he  had  often  seen  the  person  they  had 
brought  to  him  in  the  house  of  Madame  d’Eprunes, 
the  mother  of  the  Bishop  of  Senlis,  whose  family 
were  well  known  to  be  good  Catholics.  The  men, 
however,  told  him  it  was  not  about  Madame 
d’Eprunes  and  her  family  they  came  to  inquire, 
but  about  the  female  now  present.  All  the  reply 
of  the  Auditor  to  this  was,  that  he  had  known  her 
to  be  a  good  Catholic  formerly,  but  what  she 
might  be  now  he  could  not  say. 

Fortunately,  at  this  point  of  the  conversation,  a 


112  True  Stories  from  History. 

woman  who  was  known  to  the  soldiers  came  np, 
and  asked  them  what  they  were  going  to  do  with 
the  person  they  had  got  in  their  hands.  “  Par- 
dien,”  they  answered,  ‘'she  is  a  Huguenot,  and 
she  must  he  drowned,  for  we  see  she  is  frightened.” 
“Why,”  replied  the  woman,  “you  know  me;  I 
am  no  Huguenot ;  I  go  to  mass  every  day ;  and 
yet  I  have  been  so  frightened,  that  for  these  eight 
days  past  I  have  been  in  a  fever.”  “  In  truth,” 
exclaimed  one  of  the  soldiers ;  “  I  have  been  in 
the  same  state  myself.”  The  two  men  at  last  con¬ 
sented  to  conduct  their  prisoner  back  to  the  boat, 
merely  remarking,  as  they  put  her  again  on  board, 
that  if  she  had  been  a  man  she  should  not  have 
escaped  so  easily. 

We  must  sum  up  very  briefly  the  remaining 
hazards  which  Madame  de  Feuqueres  ran  in  effect¬ 
ing  her  escape.  The  house  of  the  corn-merchant 
in  -which  she  had  lain  so  long  concealed,  was  pil¬ 
laged  immediately  after  she  left  it.  At  the  place 
where  they  landed  for  the  night  there  was  only 
one  sleeping  chamber  at  the  inn,  which  she  was 


Madame  De  Feuqueres.  113 

obliged  to  occupy  with  two  other  women.  She 
greatly  feared  that  their  suspicions  would  be  ex¬ 
cited  by  her  clothes,  a  part  of  which  were  fine  and 
rich,  while  the  rest  of  her  attire  was  that  of  a  ser¬ 
vant.  Her  apprehensions  here,  however,  proved 
vain. 

Ou  Thursday  she  left  the  boat,  and  proceeded 
on  foot  to  the  residence  of  the  Chancellor  l’Hospi- 
tal,  a  distance  of  about  five  leagues.  They  found 
the  Chancellor’s  house  occupied  by  the  guard 
which  the  King  had  sent  for  his  protection.  She 
therefore  determined  to  take  up  her  residence  in 
the  cottage  of  his  vine-dresser — a  poor  man  who 
treated  her  with  the  kindest  hospitality.  Here  she 
remained  for  fifteen  days,  during  which  time  the 
soldiers  came  to  the  village,  searching  every  sus¬ 
pected  house.  But  they  were  prevented  from  en¬ 
tering  that  in  which  she  was  concealed,  in  conse¬ 
quence  of  its  being  considered  under  the  Chancel¬ 
lor’s  guard. 

At  last,  when  matters  seemed  to  be  some¬ 
what  tranquillized,  she  set  set  out,  accompanied 


114  Trite  Stories  from  History. 

by  tlie  vine-dresser,  to  Eprunes,  a  property  be¬ 
longing  to  her  grandmother,  which  she  reached 
in  safety.  She  was  received  here  as  one  returned 
from  the  dead.  From  this  she  went  to  Buhy,  now 
in  possession  of  her  eldest  brother.  Here  she  was 
exposed  to  new  persecutions.  Her  brother — who 
had  saved  his  life  by  consenting  to  go  to  mass — 
was  still  so  alarmed  that  he  refused  to  allow  her  to 
remain  in  his  house,  on  her  persisting  in  declining 
to  accompany  him  to  chapel..  With  a  very  scanty 
supply  of  money  she  was  obliged  once  more  to  set 
out  on  her  travels.  She  went  to  Sedan,  where  she 
arrived  on  the  first  of  November,  and  received 
the  warmest  welcome,  and  the  supply  of  all  her 
wants,  from  numerous  friends,  most  of  whom  had, 
like  herself,  taken  refuge  here,  after  escaping  from 
the  Parisian  massacre.  She  continued  to  reside  in 
Sedan  till  her  marriage  with  Philip  de  Morn  ay,  in 
January,  1576. 


XI. 


flu  (gssrm  flf  ® it r s Ir a l  iu  la  firm. 

* 


ERHAPS  the  most  extraordinary  deliverance 


from  the  St.  Bartholomew,  of  which  an  ac¬ 
count  has  come  down  to  ns,  was  that  of  the  Mar¬ 
shal  de  la  Force. 

The  Sieur  de  la  Force,  the  father  of  the  Marshal, 
was  one  of  the  Protestant  gentlemen  who  were 
lodged,  when  the  massacre  broke  out,  in  the  Fau¬ 
bourg  St.  Germain.  The  first  notice  he  received, 
on  the  morning  of  the  fatal  Sunday,  of  what  was 
passing  in  the  city,  was  from  a  person  who  had 
swam  across  the  river  to  apprize  him  of  his  dan¬ 
ger.  There  were  living  with  La  Force  his  two 
sons,  the  youngest  of  whom,  afterwards  the  Mar¬ 
shal,  was  now  in  his  thirteenth  year.  Had  the 
father  thought  but  of  his  own  safety,  he  probably 
might  have  been  able,  like  many  of  his  friends,  to 


116  True  Stories  from  History. 

have  effected  liis  escape.  But  some  time  was  lost 
in  getting  his  two  boj^s  in  readiness  to  fly  with 
him,  and  before  they  had  left  the  house,  it  was 
broken  into  by  the  murderers.  A  man  of  the  name 
of  Martin  was  at  the  head  of  the  party,  who  hay¬ 
ing  made  his  men  instantly  disarm  the  prisoners, 

addressed  himself  to  La  Force,  and  told  him  with 

*  ’ 

the  most  violent  oaths,  that  his  last  moment  was 
come.  On  La  Force,  however,  offering  him  two 
thousand  crowns  to  save  the  lives  of  himself  and 
children,  the  ruffian  and  his  band  agreed  to  accept 
of  this  bribe.  After  having  pillaged  the  house, 
they  desired  the  father  and  his  two  sons  to  tie 
their  handkerchief  in  the  form  of  crosses  around 
their  hats,  and  to  turn  up  the  right  sleeves  of  their 
coats,  and  then  they  all  set  out  together.  The 
river,  as  they  crossed  it,  was  already  covered  with 
dead  bodies,  and  the  same  frightful  tokens  of  the 
tragedy  acting  around  them,  strewed  the  courts  of 
the  Louvre  and  the  other  places  through  which 
they  passed.  At  last  they  arrived  at  Martin’s 
house,  and  here  La  Force  having  been  first  bound 


Marshal  de  la  Force.  117 


by  an  oath  not  to  attempt  to  withdraw  either  him¬ 
self  or  his  sons  until  he  should  have  paid  the  two 
thousand  crowns,  they  were  left  in  charge  of  two 
Swiss  soldiers. 

Madame  de  Brissembourg,  the  sister-in-law  of 
La  Force,  who  resided  in  the  Arsenal,  of  which 
her  relation,  the  Marshal  de  Biron,  was  grand¬ 
master,  upon  being  applied  to  for  the  money  to 
pay  the  promised  ransom,  engaged  to  send  the 
requisite  sum  by  the  evening  of  the  following 
day.  La  Force  and  his  sons  were  therefore 
obliged  to  remain  till  then  where  they  were.  At 
last,  when  the  appointed  time  arrived,  a  messenger 
was  despatched  for  the  money.  While  he  was  yet 
absent,  the  Count  de  Coconas  suddenly  presented 
himself  at  the  head  of  a  party  of  soldiers,  bringing 
orders,  as  he  said,  to  conduct  the  prisoners  imme¬ 
diately  to  the  Duke  of  Anjou.  He  had  no  sooner 
intimated  the  purpose  of  his  visit,  than  his  men, 
laying  hold  of  the  father  and  his  sons,  pulled  off 
their  bonnets  and  mantles,  and  by  the  roRgh  man¬ 
ner  in  which  they  used  them,  afforded  them  a 


118  True  Stories  from  History. 


sufficient  presage  of  the  fate  prepared  for  them. 
They  led  them,  however,  some  distance  down  the 
street  without  offering  them  violence.  They  then 
halted,  and  making  a  sudden  assault  upon  them, 
they  despatched  first  the  eldest  son,  and  the  next 
instant  the  father,  by  multiplied  blows  with  their 
daggers. 

By  a  singular  chance,  the  youngest  son,  in  the 
confusion  of  the  encounter,  escaped  untouched. 
The  wildly-directed  blows  of  the  murderers  had 
all  missed  him,  having  fallen  upon  his  father  and 
his  brother.  He  had  the  presence  of  mind  to 
throw  himself  down  on  the  ground  beside  them, 
and  as  he  lay  bathed  in  their  blood,  to  call  out 
that  he  was  mortally  wounded,  and  then  to  coun¬ 
terfeit  the  appearance  of  death. 

The  murderers,  supposing  their  deed  done,  after 
hastily  stripping  the  three  bodies,  left  the  spot. 
It  was  not  long  before  a  number  of  the  neighbors 
approached,  and  among  the  rest  a  poor  man  be¬ 
longing  to  the  tennis-court  in  the  Rue  du  Yerdelet. 
This  person,  on  beholding  the  body  of  the  j^oung- 


Marshal  d  e  la  Force. 


119 


est  son,  happened  to  remark,  loud  enough  for  the 
words  to  reach  the  ear  of  the  hoy,  “Alas!  this 
one  is  but  a  mere  child.”  Hearing  these  express¬ 
ions  of  compassion,  young  La  Force  ventured 
gently  to  raise  his  head  and  to  whisper  that  he 
was  still  alive.  The  man  desired  him  to  remain 
still  a  little  longer  till  he  could  come  to  remove 
him  without  being  observed.  As  soon  as  every¬ 
body  was  out  of  sight  he  returned,  and  throwing 
an  old  ragged  cloak  over  the  boy,  he  took  him  on 
his  back,  and  set  out  with  him  for  his  own  house. 
Some  person  whom  he  met  on  the  wajr  having 
asked  him  who  it  was  he  was  carrying,  “It  is 
my  nephew,”  said  he,  “  vrh©  has  got  drunk ;  I 
shall  give  him  a  good  whipping  this  evening.” 

He  soon  reached  his  garret  with  his  burden,  and 
here  La  Force  spent  the  night.  The  next  morn¬ 
ing,  Tuesday,  his  preserver,  at  his  request,  agreed 
to  conduct  him  to  the  Arsenal,  the  boy  gladly  en¬ 
gaging  to  pay  him  thirty  crowns  for  this  service. 
They  set  out  together  at  break  of  day,  and  in  a 
short  time  reached  the  gate  of  the  Arsenal  without 


120  True  Stories  from  History, 

having  met  with  any  interruption.  The  difficulty 
now  was  for  La  Force,  in  the  beggarly  attire  he 
bad  on,  to  get  in,  but  leaving  his  guide,  he  at  last 
found  an  opportunity,  when  the  gate  was  open  for 
the  admission  of  another  person,  to  pass  through 
without  being  observed  by  the  porter.  He  met 
no  one  till  he  reached  the  part  of  the  building  in 
which  his  aunt  resided.  When  Madame  de  Bris- 
sembourg  beheld  him,  her  astonishment  and  emo¬ 
tion  was  great,  for  she  had  already  been  informed 
that  all  the  three  had  perished.  The  thirty  crowns 
were  immediately  sent  out  to  his  preserver,  and 
La  Force  was  placed  in  bed  that  he  might  recover 
from  the  effects  of  the  terror  and  agitation  he  had 
undergone. 

He  had  remained  concealed  in  the  Arsenal  for 
the  two  following  days,  but  at  the  end  of  this  time 
information  was  brought  to  Marshal  Biron  that  the 
building  was  about  to  be  searched  by  order  of  the 
King,  in  consequence  of  reports  that  were  in  circu¬ 
lation,  of  some  Huguenots  having  taken  refuge 
there.  It  was  deemed  advisable,  therefore,  that  he 


Marshal  de  la  Force. 


121 


should  be  immediately  transferred  to  some  other 
hiding-place,  and  accordingly  on  Thursday  morn¬ 
ing,  attired  as  a  page,  he  was  confided  to  the  care 
of  a  gentleman  with  whom  he  remained  seven  or 
eight  days.  But  even  at  that  distance  of  time  after 
the  massacre,  the  report  of  his  singular  escape  hav¬ 
ing  got  abroad,  fears  were  still  entertained  that  an 
attempt  would  be  made  to  gain  possession  of  him. 
By  some  management  it  was  contrived  to  convey 
him  beyond  the  walls  of  the  capital,  and  after  sev¬ 
eral  other  hazardous  adventures,  he  reached  the 
house  of  his  uncle,  the  Sieur  de  Caumont,  in  the 
South  of  France,  by  whom  he  was  received  with 
great  joy.  The  boy  thus  miraculously  rescued 
from  destruction,  and  who  eventually  rose  to  the 
rank  of  Marshal,  lived  for  more  than  eighty  years 
after  this  escape,  having  died  in  1653,  at  the  age 
of  ninety-four. 


XII. 


fit*  St.  to  f tt b s . 

HESE  narratives  of  individual  adventure  and 


^  suffering  may  serve  to  convey  more  correctly 
than  any  merely  general  description  could  do,  a 
representation  of  the  terrors  and  inhumanities  of 
the  Massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew.  They  set  before 
us  vividly  and  truly  the  unrestrained  riot  of  the 
slaughterers,  the  furious  excitement  and  fever  of 
public  opinion,  and  the  bewilderment  and  dismay 
of  the  unhappy  beings  who  were  scattered  before 
the  whirlwind  of  Papal  persecution  and  popular 
wrath.  The  judgment  passed  upon  this  massacre 
by  all  reflecting  persons,  even  those  least  favorable 
to  Protestantism,  must  be  that  no  example  of  any 
such  enormous  atrocity  can  be  found  in  the  na¬ 
tional  annals  of  all  the  world.  Nor  shall  we  think 
this  judgment  harsh  or  undeserved,  when  we  view 


The  St.  Bartholomew  Ends.  123 

in  their  full  dimensions  certain  of  the  more  remark¬ 
able  characteristics  of  the  transaction — its  elabo¬ 
rate  treachery — the  royal  and  female  hands  that 
washed  themselves  in  the  bloodshed — the  hour  of 
reconcilement  and  festive  rejoicing  in  which  the 
victims  were  attacked — the  number  of  the  noble, 
the  beautiful,  and  the  virtuous  who  perished — the 
indiscriminate  and  unsparing  comprehensiveness, 
the  wild  fury,  the  savage  cruelty,  the  abominable 
brutality  and  extravagance  of  outrage,  carried,  in 
many  cases,  not  only  beyond  the  extinction  of  the 
last  throb  of  life,  but  to  the  utmost  limits  of  humil¬ 
iation  and  disfigurement  with  which  the  slaughter- 
ing  knife  could  do  its  office ! 

The  whole  story  is  a  terrific  illustration  of  what 
human  nature  is  capable  of  becoming  and  of  perpe¬ 
trating,  under  the  power  of  bigotry  and  religious 
hatred,  aided  by  the  hardening  and  depraving 
influence  of  barbarous  institutions  and  manners. 
May  God  save  our  land,  and  our  homes,  from  such 
enormities,  whether  done  in  the  holy  name  of 
religion,  or  from  the  impulse  of  other  motives ! 


. 


PART  II. 


I]  e  %  t Ir  o l k 1 1  ait  of  17  8  9. 


’  V. 


Engraved.  hy  J  C  Buccce. 


I. 


Causes  anir  first  Steps  of  tire  Jlcbolution. 

171  HE  character  and  events  of  the  long  reign  of 
Louis  XV.,  and  the  social  and  moral  habits 
of  the  people  which  were  fostered  during  that  time, 
combined  to  bring  about  a  state  of  things  where 
the  inevitable  result  must  be  revolution.  When 
Louis  XVI.  ascended  the  throne  in  1774,  who  was 
himself  of  an  unambitious  and  unwarlike  disposi¬ 
tion,  he  found  that  the  pride  of  their  old  military 
greatness  was  well  nigh  extinguished  in  the  heart  of 
the  nation  by  a  scries  of  recent  reverses,  and  that 
all  the  ordinary  resources  of  the  treasury  were  so 
exhausted,  that  nothing  but  the  most  rigid  retrench¬ 
ment  in  every  department  of  public  expenditure, 
seemed  to  offer  a  chance  of  saving  the  State  from 
bankruptcy.  It  was  the  financial  disorder  of  the 
times  which  brought  on  the  crisis  of  the  Revolution. 


128  True  Stories  from  History. 

But  other  causes  had  been  long  at  -work  which 
had  been  preparing  the  mind  of  the  country  for 
the  new  order  of  tilings  which  succeeded.  The 
age  of  Louis  XIY.  had  been  one  of  great  literary 
as  well  as  military  glory  to  France.  It  was  part 
of  the  system  of  pomp  and  display  which  that 
monarch  maintained,  to  advance  the  glory  of  his 
throne  by  the  flatteries  of  genius,  and  this  he  could 
only  do  by  creating  a  public  opinion  which  would 
not  long  be  satisfied  with  panegyric  alone.  In 
this  manner,  notwithstanding  the  despotism  of  the 
government,  something  of  the  air  and  sentiment  • 
of  liberty  prevailed  among  the  people.  They 
were  so  long  permitted  to  breathe  this  air,  by 
sufferance,  that,  at  last,  it  became  impossible  to 
deprive  them  of  it. 

During  the  latter  part  of  the  reign  of  Louis  XV., 
the  press  had  become  nearly,  in  all  respects,  free, 
and  more  than  equal  to  a  contest  with  the  laws. 
This  is  clearly  evident  in  the  history  of  the  publi¬ 
cation  of  the  famous  Didionnaire  Encydopedique. 
Though  the  printing  of  that  work  was  frequently 


Causes  of  the  Revolution.  129 

suspended,  it  was  always  found  necessary,  after  a 
short-  time,  to  permit  it  to  be  resumed.  Although 
it  advocated  principles  both  in  religion  and  politics 
that  were  calculated  to  unsettle  men’s  minds,  and 
to  overturn  the  whole  social  fabric,  yet  it  was  not 
in  the  power  of  the  government  either  to  suppress 
it,  or  to  control  it.  Moreover,  these  principles 
infected  French  literature  generally  at  this  period. 
Their  dillusion  was,  in  reality,  almost  the  neces¬ 
sary  consequence  of  the  shameless  conduct  by 
which  the  Court  had  long  distinguished  itself. 
Ever  since  the  accession  of  Louis  XV.  the  most 
unbounded  profligacy  of  manners  had  pervaded 
the  household,  first  of  the  Regent,  and  then  of  the 
King  himself,  and  had  from  thence  rapidly  spread 
among  the  higher  ranks  in  every  part  of  the  king¬ 
dom,  till  among  this  class  of  society  the  most 
sacred  obligations  of  religion  and  morality  had 
become  little  better  than  a  theme  of  fashionable 
ridicule,  and  the  voice  of  reproof  as  little  heeded 
as  the  indistinct  murmurs  of  them  that  dream. 

But  it  could  not  be  possible  but  that  morality 

9 


280  True  Stories  from  Historic 


should  have  her  speedy  and  terrible  revenge.  The 
outraged  laws  of  religion  must  vindicate  them¬ 
selves.  God’s  authority  could  not  thus  be  openly 
and  systematically  contemned  and  spurned  without 
bringing  down  terrible  retribution.  (Thc^  who 
despised  morality  soon  grew  to  be  themselves 
despised.  \  The  old  reverential  prejudices  with 
respect  to  rank  and  station  were  fast  giving  way 
when  rank  and  station  were  sinking  into  shameless 
corruption. 

The  irreligion  of  the  times,  also,  was  the  natural 
produce  of  the  dissoluteness  and  utter  abandon¬ 
ment  of  decencj^  which  marked  the  conduct  of  the 
more  influential  orders,  both  in  the  State  and 
Church.  Some  of  the  most  reckless  devotees  of 
pleasure  in  this  age  were  equally  remarkable  for 
their  regular  and  scrupulous  attention  to  all  the 
outward  ceremonies  and  corporeal  taskwork  of 
religion,  whose  genuine  spirit  could  hardly  fail  to 
be  brought  into  contempt  by  so  profane  a  mock¬ 
ery.  The  manner  in  which  many  of  the  higher 
dignities  in  the  ecclesiastical  establishment  were 


Causes  of  the  Revolution.  131 

bestowed,  tended  perhaps  still  more  to  alienate 
men’s  minds  from  what  seemed  little  better  than  a 
State  contrivance  for  the  worst  of  State  purposes. 
To  mention  no  other  instance,  what  reverence  or 
respect  could  be  felt  for  a  church  in  which  the 
infarfious  Dubois,  one  of  the  most  unblushing 
debauchees  that  ever  lived,  and  notorious,  indeed, 
as  a  systematic  preceptor  of  vice,  had  risen  to  be 
first  an  Archbishop,  and  afterwards  a  Cardinal,  and. 

V 

had  finally  been  elected  their  first  President  by  the 
assembled  body  of  the  Clergy  ? 

The  state  of  public  feeling  and  opinion,  how¬ 
ever,  produced  by  these  causes,  may  be  rather 
said  to  have  influenced  the  course  of  the  Revo¬ 
lution,  than  to  have  actually  set  it  iu  motion. 
That,  as  has  been  remarked,  was  done  mainly  by 
the  pecuniary  necessities  and  embarrassments  of 
the  government.  These  affairs  had  long  been 
growing  worse  and  worse,  and  had,  at  last,  in  the 
beginning  of  the  year  1787,  come  to  such  a  point 
that  an  appeal  to  the  nation,  iu  some  form  or 
other,  was  felt  to  be  unavoidable.  On  the  thir- 


132  True  Stories  from  History. 

teentli  of  January  in  that  year,  a  proclamation  ac¬ 
cordingly  appeared,  convoking — for  the  twenty- 
ninth.  of  the  same  month,  what  was  called  an 
Assembly  of  Notables ;  that  is,  of  principal  persons 
from  the  different  towns  and  districts  of  the  king¬ 
dom,  selected  by  the  King.  This  was  the  first  as¬ 
sembly  of  the  kind  which  had  been  called  together 
since  1626.  They  did  not  commence  their  sitting 
till  the  twenty-second  of  February.  The  principal 
object  which  they  accomplished  was  ascertaining 
and  publishing  a  statement  of  the  condition  of  the 
public  finances.  It  was  found  that  there  was  an 
annual  deficit  of  more  than  twenty-five  million 
dollars,  besides  a  debt,  incurred  in  the  space  of 
about  ten  years,  amounting  to  about  three  hundred 
million  dollars.  After  making  these  alarming 
discoveries,  and  passing  a  few  unimportant  resolu¬ 
tions,  with  the  view  of  introducing  a  better  order 
into  the  accounts  of  the  State,  the  Assembly  of 
Notables  closed  their  session  on  the  twenty-fifth  of 
May.  Their  announcement,  however,  of  the  de¬ 
plorable  condition  of  the  revenue  produced  an 


Causes  of  the  Revolution.  133 

extraordinary  sensation  in  tire  public  mind,  and 
from  that  moment  everybody  began  to  talk  of  tlie 
convocation  of  the  States-General,  as  the  only 
measure  suited  to  the  exigencies  of  the  kingdom. 
The  Parliament  in  particular — which  had  been  re¬ 
established  by  Louis  XVI.  on  his  coming  to  the 
throne — soon  after  expressly  demanded  from  the 
King  the  adoption  of  this  measure.  This  remon¬ 
strance  being  disregarded,  they  came  to  the  resolu¬ 
tion,  on  the  thirteenth  of  August,  that  for  the  fu¬ 
ture  no  impost  could  be  legally  levied,  unless  the 
enactment  bore  in  the  preamble,  a  statement  of  the 
fact  that  the  opinion  of  the  States-General  had 
been  taken  upon  it. 

This  bold  declaration  was  the  commencement 
of  a  protracted  struggle  between  the  Court  on  the 
one  side  and  the  Parliaments — as  well  of  the  Prov¬ 
inces,  as  of  Paris  —  backed  by  the  people,  on  the 
other.  After  a  year  of  collision  between  these 
parties,  unused  to  difference,  the  contest  in  which 
force  and  artifice  were  equally  unavailing  on  the 
part  of  the  government,  at  last  terminated  in  the 


134  True  Stories  from  History. 

victory  of  the  popular  will.  On  the  8th  of  Au¬ 
gust,  1788,  an  edict  was  issued  for  the  Convoca¬ 
tion  of  the  States,  in  May  following.  A  few 
da}*s  after  the  national  favorite,  Meeker,  was  re¬ 
placed  as  Minister  of  Finance,  on  the  dismissal  of 
De  Brienne,  the  Archbishop  of  Toulouse,  who  had 
held  that  place  during  the  preceding  fifteen  months. 

A  second  Assembly  of  Notables  had  been  in 
session  from  the  sixth  of  November  till  the  eighth 
of  the  following  month,  to  determine  the  number 
of  deputies  which  should  be  sent  by  each  of  the 
different  estates  of  the  realm.  The  matter  was, 
however,  at  last  settled  by  an  ordinance  of  the 
King,  who  decided  that  the  representatives  of  the 
Commons,  or  Tiers-JEtat,  as  they  were  called — 
should  equal  in  number  those  of  the  nobility  and 
clergy  together.  On  the  5th  of  May,  1789,  the 
great  national  Convocation  which  France  had  not 
seen  assembled  for  a  hundred  and  seventy -five 
years,  once  more  met  at  Versailles,  in  the  magnifi¬ 
cent  hall  of  the  palace  named  La  Salle  des  Menus. 
This  may  be  considered  as  the  first  day  of  the 


Causes  of  the  Revolution.  135 

Revolution.  From  this  time  it  advanced  to  its 
consummation,  like  an  inundation,  which,  over¬ 
flowing  the  land,  sweeps  all  before  its  resistless 
tide,  and  leaves  nothing  but  desolation  when  its 
tide  has  subsided. 

The  Tiers-Etat  assumed,  at  once,  the  attitude  of 
superior  power.  It  had  been  arranged  that  the 
three  orders  should  deliberate  each  in  its  own 
hall,  and  that  each  should  have  its  single  vote 
on  whatever  measure  might  be  discussed.  This 
method  of  proceeding  would  have  deprived  the 
Commons  of  every  advantage  from  their  supe¬ 
riority  of  numbers,  and  would,  indeed,  have  left 
them  without  a  chance  of  success,  in  any  question 
at  issue  between  themselves  and  the  two  privi¬ 
leged  orders.  The  second  day,  therefore,  having 
again  assembled  in  the  hall, — the  same  in  which 
the  opening  sitting  had  been  held,  and  which  had 
been  assigned  them  as  forming  the  most  numerous 
of  the -three  bodies, — they  awaited  without  enter¬ 
ing  upon  business,  the  arrival  of  the  deputies  of 
the  other  two  estates.  They  persisted  in  this 


136  True  Stories  from  History. 

course  for  many  succeeding  days.  Afterwards 
they  sent  a  formal  invitation  to  the  other  deputies 
to  join  them,  but  their  firmness  produced  no  appa¬ 
rent  effect  till  the  thirteenth  of  June,  when  three 
members  of  the  order  of  the  Clergy  at  last  pre¬ 
sented  themselves  in  their  hall.  This  example 
was  followed,  the  next  day,  by  several  other 
deputies  of  the  same  order.  Emboldened  by  this 
success,  or  rather  wisely  reckoning  upon  what  had 
taken  place  as  an  evidence  of  their  strength,  and  a 
sure  presage  of  victory,  on  the  seventeenth  the  Com¬ 
mons  declared  themselves  a  National  Assembly. 

Three  days  afterwards  another  event  happened, 
which  operated  with  powerful  effect  in  strengthen¬ 
ing  and  confirming  the  enthusiasm  which  had  thus 
blazed  out.  On  repairing  to  their  hall,  on  the 
morning  of  the  twentieth,  the  deputies  of  the  Tiers- 
Etat  found  the  gates  shut,  and  the  building  sur¬ 
rounded  by  soldiers,  while  a  notice  on  the  wall 
informed  them  that  his  Majesty,  meaning  to  hold 
a  royal  sitting  on  the  twenty-second,  had  com¬ 
manded  their  meetings  to  be  suspended  while  the 


Causes  of  the  Revolution.  137 

ball  was  undergoing  the  necessary  preparations  for 
that  ceremonial.  Astonished  and  enraged  at  the 
insolence  of  this  proceeding,  the  deputies,  after  a 
few  minutes  of  agitation,  resolved  to  assemble  in  a 
tennis-court  in  the  neighborhood.  On  arriving 
here,  while  they  crowded  around  their  president, 
Bailly,  who  had  elevated  himself  on  a  table,  they 
swore  that  no  intimidation  should  make  them 
cease  from  meeting  together  till  they  had  given  a 
constitution  to  their  country.  This  patriotic  vow 
rung  throughout  France,  and  was  responded  to  by 
acclamations  of  applause  and  sympathy  from  her 
remotest  borders. 

The  royal  sitting  took  place  on  the  twenty -third, 
and  ended  only  in  adding  another  triumph  to 
those  already  achieved  by  the  Commons.  After 
pronouncing  a  declaration,  proposing  various  im¬ 
portant  reforms,  which  were  only  objectionable  in 
coming  too  late,  his  Majesty  commanded  the  dep¬ 
uties  of  the  different  orders  to  disperse.  But 
those  of  the  Tiers-Etat  remained  in  their  seats. 
On  the  Grand-Master  of  ceremonies  repeating  to 


138  True  Stories  from  History. 

tliem  the  King’s  command, — “  Go  tell  jour  master,” 
—  exclaimed  Mirabeau — “that  we  are  here  by 
order  of  the  people,  and  that  we  shall  not  be 
driven  hence  by  his  bayonets.”  After  thus  throw¬ 
ing  down  the  gauntlet  of  defiance  to  the  royal  au¬ 
thority,  they  went  on  with  their  deliberations,  as 
usual.  On  the  twenty-seventh,  the  grand  object  for 
which  they  had  been  struggling  from  the  first  day 
they  had  met,  was  fully  attained,  by  the  return  to 
their  hall  of  all  the  deputies  of  the  other  two 
orders,  in  conformity  with  the  recommendation  of 
the  King  himself. 

Thus  was  the  first  act  of  the  Revolution  com¬ 
pleted  by  the  virtual  subjection  to  the  new  power 
of  the  representatives  of  the  Commons,  of  both  the 
King  and  the  privileged  orders,  almost  the  only 
parties  who  had  hitherto  been  recognized  in 
France  as  having  anjr  political  rights  at  all.  Soon 
after  this  a  new  scene  of  the  drama  opened,  and 
other  actors  appeared  upon  the  stage.  Some  days 
before  the  States- General  had  assembled,  a  mob 
had  arisen  in  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine,  and 


Causes  of  the  Revolution.  139 

burned  the  manufactory  of  a  paper-maker,  of  the 
name  of  Rdveillon,  who  was  said  to  have  threat¬ 
ened  to  reduce  the  wages  of  his  workmen.  And 
on  the  30th  of  June  the  populace  had  broken  into 
the  prison  of  the  Abbey  St.  Germain,  and  liber¬ 
ated  a  number  of  soldiers  of  the  Guards,  who  had 
been  confined  there  for  some  acts  of  insubordina¬ 
tion.  But  these  insulated  outrages  could  hardly 
be  regarded  as  indicating  any  general  system  of 
insurrection  on  the  part  of  the  lower  orders.  The 
true  commencement  of  the  attempt  of  the  mob  to 
constitute  themselves  the  sovereign  jiower  of  the 
state,  was  the  riot  which  took  place  in  Paris  on  the 
12th  of  July,  when  the  news  arrived  that  the  King 
had  dismissed  Keeker,  the  popular  Minister  of 
Finance.  This  tumult  continued  for  three  days, 
on  the  last  of  which,  the  famous  Fourteenth,  the  in¬ 
surgents  having  found  themselves  arms  by  pillag¬ 
ing  the  stores  in  the  Hotel  des  Invalides,  attacked 
and  demolished  the  Bastille,  and  by  a  variety  of 
other  excesses,  gave  terrible  demonstration  both 
of  their  temper  and  their  power. 


II. 


gU  .1)0  hit  ion  g*pn. 


IIE  Revolution  had  now  fairly  begun.  From 


this  time  there  were  two  energies  at  wrork  in 
the  destruction  of  the  ancient  government,  and 
both,  though  often  opposing  each  other,  co-oper¬ 
ating  in  carrying  forward  the  terrible  work. 

The  effect  of  this  popular  commotion  was  to  ter¬ 
rify  the  King  into  the  recall  of  Keeker.  The 
Kational  Assembly  then  proceeded  with  their 
reforms.  Their  next  most  celebrated  sitting  was 
that  during  the  night  of  the  4th  of  August,  in 
which  one  member  after  another  of  the  nobility 
and  clergy  hastened  to  surrender  his  obnoxious 
privileges,  and  the  Assembly  decreed,  by  acclama¬ 
tion,  the  abolition  of  provincial  immunities,  of  seig- 
norial  courts,  rights  of  chase,  and  all  other  similar 
institutions  of  Feudalism.  On  the  11th  of  the 


The  Revolution  Begun.  141 


same  month,  the  same  power  decreed  the  abolition 
of  tjthes. 

During  the  months  of  August  and  September 
the  popular  agitation  had  continued,  notwithstand¬ 
ing  all  the  efforts  of  the  legislature  to  preserve 
order,  aided  by  the  recently  organized  National 
Guards.  The  spirit  of  insubordination  and  out¬ 
rage  had  spread  from  Paris  throughout  the  greater 
part  of  France.  The  state  of  the  capital  was  ren¬ 
dered  still  more  alarming  by  symptoms  of  a  scar¬ 
city  which  had  for  some  time  appeared,  and  were 
every  day  becoming  stronger.  In  this  exasperated 
temper  of  the  popular  mind,  news  arrived  in  Paris 
on  the  evening  of  the  3d  of  October,  of  certain 
extraordinary  scenes  which  had  been  acted  on  that 
and  the  preceding  two  days,  at  'Versailles,  where  a 
fete,  it  appeared,  had  been  given  by  the  soldiers 
of  the  King’s  Guard  to  their  officers,  at  which  the 
royal  family  having  presented  themselves,  the 
most  violent  demonstrations  had  been  offered  by 
the  whole  company,  of  their  detestation  of  the  new 
order  of  tilings,  and  their  determination  to  devote 


142  True  Stories  from  History. 

themselves  to  bring  about  a  counter-revolution. 
Among  many  similar  extravagances,  the  white 
cockade,  it  was  said,  had  been  mounted  by  these 
daring  revellers,  and  that  of  the  nation  trampled 
under  foot. 

Inflamed  to  the  highest  pitch  of  fury  by  this 
intelligence,  the  people  of  Paris  could  scarcely  be 
restrained  from  rushing,  en  masse ,  on  the  instant, 
to  the  scene  of  these  insulting  festivities.  During 
that  night,  however,  and  the  whole  of  the  next 
day,  the  patrols  of  the  National  Guards  succeeded 
in  preserving  tranquillity.  But  on  the  morning 
of  the  5th,  the  outcry — Bread!  Bread!  to  Ver¬ 
sailles  !  to  Versailles  !  broke  forth  again  among  the 
rabble  of  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine,  with  tenfold 
violence,  and  the  desperate  multitude  could  no 
longer  be  kept  from  the  execution  of  their  purpose. 
A  tumultuous  throng,  which  is  said  to  have 
swelled  at  last  to  thirty  thousand  persons,  a  great 
part  of  whom  were  women  of  the  lowest  descrip¬ 
tion,  set  out  for  Versailles,  followed  by  a  detach¬ 
ment  of  the  National  Guards,  under  the  command 


The  Revolution  Begun.  148 

of  their  general,  the  patriotic  La  Fayette,  who, 
after  having  exhausted  all  his  eloquence  in  vain  to 
dissuade  them  from  their  design,  deemed  it  best  to 
accompany  their  movement. 

lie  had,  however,  succeeded  in  detaining  them 
so  long,  that,  although  they  had  begun  to  congre¬ 
gate  at  six  o’clock  in  the  morning,  it  was  nearly 
seven  in  the  evening  when  they  commenced  their 
march.  It  is  not  our  purpose  to  narrate  the  suc¬ 
cessive  scenes  of  riot,  outrage,  and  bloodshed 
which  now  took  place  around  the  hall  of  the  As¬ 
sembly  and  the  royal  residence.  It  was  not  long 
before  active  hostilities  commenced  between  the 
mob  and  the  military  who  guarded  the  palace. 
At  last,  at  an  early  hour  in  the  morning,  the  exer¬ 
tions  of  La  Fayette  succeeded  in  restoring  tranquil¬ 
ity,  and  the  royal  family  retired  to  sleep.  But  by 
six  o’clock  the  confusion  was  again  worse  than 
ever,  and  the  lives  of  the  King  and  Queen  were 
sought  by  infuriated  crowds,  armed  with  pikes, 
who  penetrated  even  to  the  door  of  the  Queen’s 
bedchamber,  and  were  only  prevented  from  enter- 


144  True  Stories  from  History. 

ing  by  learning  that  their  intended  victim  had,  a 
few  moments  before,  fled  to  another  part  of  the 
palace  in  her  night-'clomes.  It  has  generally  been 
asserted  that  the  assassins  actually  rushed  up  to 
the  bed  from  which  her  Majesty  had  just  risen, 
and  in  the  rage  of  their  disappointment,  thrust 
their  weapons  with  repeated  strokes  through  the 
bed-clothes.  Madame  Campan’s  account,  however, 
of  these  transactions,  corresponds  with  the  state¬ 
ment  above.  In  either  case  the  mob  was  moved 
by  such  excited  and  malignant  passions,  that  they 
would  stop  at  no  outrage,  however  horrible. 

By  the  exertions  of  La  Fayette  again,  something 
like  a  calm  was  once  more  produced,  and  the 
populace  consented  to  return  to  Paris,  on  condi¬ 
tion  of  being  accompanied  by  their  Majesties. 
The  King,  the  Queen,  the  king’s  sister,  Madame 
Elizabeth,  the  Dauphin,  the  deputies,  Barnave  and 
Petion,  were  then  all  put  into  the  same  carriage, 
which  immediately  took  the  road  to  the  capital, 
surrounded  on  all  sides  by  the  immense  multitude, 
who  now,  however,  made  the  air  resound  with 


The  Revolution'  Begun.  145 


* 


shouts  of  “  Vive  le  Roi /”  It  was  one  o’clock  in 
the  afternoon  when  the  royal  family  left  Versailles, 
but  with  this  incumbering  attendance,  they  did 
not  reach  the  barriers  of  Paris  till  six  in  the 
evening.  They  were  conducted  first  to  the  Hotel 
de  Ville,  where  the  King  was  addressed  by  Bailly, 
now  Mayor  of  Paris,  who  informed  him  that  the 
citizens  hoped  he  would,  in  future,  make  the  town 
his  usual  residence.  After  the  ceremonial  of  this 
reception,  he  was  allowed  to  proceed,  with  his 
family,  to  the  Tuileries.  On  the  nineteenth  of 
October,  the  National  Assembly  followed  his  Ma¬ 
jesty  to  Paris. 

This  second  great  victory  of  the  populace,  how¬ 
ever,  like  their  former  on  the  fourteenth  of  July, 
was  prevented  from  being  followed  by  the  full 
accomplishment  of  its  natural  consequences, — the 
subjection  of  all  the  constituted  authorities  of  the 
State.  The  partial  acquiescence  and  participation 
of  the  legislative  body  itself  in  the  changes  thus 
forcibly  brought  about  in  the  views  of  those  by 
whom,  they  had  been  effected,  neutralized,  for  a 


MG  True  Stories  from  Histokt. 


% 


■time,  the  effects  of  such  a  violent  shock  to  the- 
course  of  all  order  and  government..  A  vast 
majority  of  the  National  Assembly  had  certainly 
rejoiced,  for  instance,  in  the  destruction  of  the 
Bastille.  Many  deputies  also  looked  with  com¬ 
placency  on  that  prostration  of  the  royal  authority 
which  the  energy  of  the  mob  had  now  achieved. 
The  two  parties,  therefore,  were  as  yet,  to  a  con¬ 
siderable  extent,  fellow-workers  together  in  the 
same  cause,  or  at  least,  though  divided  as  to  the 
means,  they  were  united  as  to  the  object.  This 
common  end,  accordingly,  they  pursued  for  a  con¬ 
siderable  time  longer,  each  in  its  own  way,  with¬ 
out  much  interfering  with  the  other.  On  the  sec¬ 
ond  of  November,  the  Assembly  declared  the  pos¬ 
sessions  of  the  Church  to  be  the  property  of  the 
nation,  and  on  the  nineteenth  of  the  following 
month  they  decreed  their  confiscation.  On  the 
18th  of  February,.  1790,  they  proclaimed  the 
abolition  of  religious  orders  and  monastic  vowrs. 
On  the  twenty-second  of  May,  they  determined 
that  the  right  of  declaring  peace  or  war  should 


The  Revolution  Begun.  147 

belong,  henceforth,  to  the  legislative  body, — the 
King  retaining  only  that  of  initiating,  or  introduc¬ 
ing  the  question.  On  the  nineteenth  of  June  they 
decreed  the  suppression  of  hereditary  nobility, 
coats-of-arms,  and  all  distinctions  of  rank.  Most 
of  these  innovations  had  been  discussed  and  re¬ 
solved  upon  in  the  popular  clubs,  which,  having 
their  central  meetings  in  Paris,  had  by  this  time 
spread  their  ramifications  over  all  Prance. 

Of  these  associations  the  most  influential,  both 
at  this  period  and  for  a  long  time  afterwards,  was 
that  of  the  Jacobins — so  called  from  its  place  of 
meeting,  the  Convent  of  the  Jacobins,  in  the  Rue 
St.  Honore.  This  Club  had  been  originally  es¬ 
tablished  at  Versailles,  while  the  National  Assem¬ 
bly  sat  there,  by  a  few  of  the  members  of  that 
body.  But  after  it  was  transferred,  together  with 
the  Legislature,  to  Paris,  it  very  soon  began  to 
open  its  doors  to  persons  of  much  more  violent 
politics  than  those  of  which  it  had  at  first  con¬ 
sisted.  It  became,  in  fact,  the  nightly  rendezvous 
of  many  of  the  most  turbulent  spirits  of  the  capi- 


148  True  Stories  from  IIistory. 

tal,  who  gradually  obtained  sucli  a  sway  over  its 
deliberations,  that  it  was  abandoned  by  most  of  its 
original  members.  The  people,  however,  as  we 
have  said,  continued  to  act  upon  the  legislature 
through  this,  and  similar  societies,  with  an  im¬ 
mense  and  daily-increasing  influence.  But  they 
did  not  long  confine  themselves  merely  to  this 
manner  of  demonstrating  their  strength.  On  the 
18th  of  April,  1791,  the  King  and  the  rest  of  the 
royal  family  had  made  preparations  to  leave  the 
Tuileries  for  the  palace  of  St.  Cloud.  But  before 
they  had  entered  the  carriage,  the  tocsin  had  been 
sounded  from  the  neighboring  Church  of  St.  Koch, 
and  a  mob  had  collected  in  the  Place  du  Carrousel, 
who  continued  to  vociferate  with  a  determined 
accent,  that  the  King  should  not  leave  the  capital. 
His  Majesty’s  object  in  going  to  St.  Cloud,  they 
said,  was  only  that  he  might  have  a  better  oppor¬ 
tunity  to  make  his  escape  from  France. 

It  was  in  vain  that  La  Fayette  and  Bailly  used 
every  effort  to  induce  them  to  give  way,  and  even 
the  National  Guards  refused  to  obey  the  orders  of 


The  Revolution  Begun.  149 

their  commander  to  disperse  the  people.  The 
consequence  was,  that  the  royal  family  were 
’  forced  to  give  up  their  design,  and  return  to  their 
apartments.  It  was  upon  this  occasion  that  La 
Fayette,  indignant  at  the  treatment  he  had  re¬ 
ceived,  threw  up  his  command,  which  he  was 
only  prevailed  upon  to  take  back  some  days  after¬ 
wards  on  the  earnest  solicitations  of  the  munici¬ 
pality,  and  the  solemn  promise  of  the  troops  them¬ 
selves  that  they  would  in  future  yield  him  implicit 
obedience.  As  for  the  King,  whatever  his  inten¬ 
tions  might  have  been,  up  to  this  time,  he  now 
certainly  cherished  the  wish — natural  to  the  pris¬ 
oner — to  escape.  No  favorable  opportunity  for 
carrying  his  purpose  into  effect  presented  itself  for 
some  weeks.  But  on  the  night  of  the  twentieth 
of  June,  he  and  the  Queen,  accompanied  by  the 
Dauphin  and  the  Princess  Elizabeth,  secretly  left 
the  Tuileries.  They  succeeded  in  getting  out  of 
the  city,  and  took  the  road  towards  Montmedy, 
with  the  intention  of  afterwards  throwing  them¬ 
selves  into  the  strongly-fortified  town  of  Luxem- 


150  True  Stories  from  History. 

bourg,  on  the  frontiers  of  the  Low  Countries, 
which  was  then  in  jiossession  of  the  Emperor  of 
Austria.  But  they  were  retaken  on  the  third  day 
of  their  flight,  at  the  town  of  Varennes,  in  the 
province  of  Lorraine,  when  more  than  two-thirds 
of  their  journey  had  been  accomplished,  and  were 
brought  back  to  Paris.  They  arrived  at  the  Tuile- 
ries  on  the  evening  of  the  twenty-fifth,  and  next 
morning  the  Assembly  declared  the  authority  of 
the  King  suspended,  and  his  person  under  ar¬ 
rest. 

Before  this  time,  however,  serious  divisions  had 
taken  place  in  the  ranks  even  of  the  original 
friends  of  the  Revolution.  Mounier  and  Lally- 
Tolendal,  the  heads  of  what  was  considered  the 
party  of  Keeker  in  the  legislative  body,  had 
quitted  the  Assembly  immediately  after  the  events 
of  the  fifth  and  sixth  of  October.  The  differences, 
too,  between  the  Constitutionalists,  as  they  were 
called,  of  whom  La  Fayette  and  Bailly  were  the 
leaders,  and  the  more  violent  parties  who  domi¬ 
neered  in  the  clubs,  and  who  were  understood  to 


'The  Revolution  Begun.  151 

•nave  been  already  the  instigators  of  several  of  the 
popular  tumults  that  had  already  taken  place- 
had  long  been  widening,  and  now  amounted  to 
almost  avowed  hostility. 

On  the  seventeenth  of  July  the  mob  assembled 
in  formidable  numbers  in  the  Champ  de  Mars  to 
sign  a  petition  to  the  Assembly  for  the  dethrone¬ 
ment  of  the  King.  As  the  day  advanced,  their 
•conduct  became  so  outrageous  that  it  was  deemed 
necessary  to  proclaim  martial  law,  and  to  disperse 
them  by  the  fire  of  the  Kational  Guards. 

The  instigators  of  this  commotion  were  Danton, 
Brissot,  and  Camille  Desmoulins,  then  considered 
among  the  chiefs  of  the  party  called  the  Girondists. 
This  faction  consisted  originally  of  deputies  from 
La  Gironde,  whose  object  was  to  establish  a  re¬ 
public,  and  who  continued  for  some  time  after 
this,  to  fight  their  battles  through  the  instru¬ 
mentality  of  the  mob,  of  whom,  however,  they 
eventually  became  the  victims,  when  they  had 
been  supplanted  by  still  more  violent  leaders. 
There  were  many  men  of  great  talents  and  pure 


152  True  Stories  from  History. 


patriotism  among  the  Girondists.  But  the  whole 
history  of  their  career  sufficiently  proves  how  ill 
fitted  they  were  to  direct  the  storm  which  they 
showed  themselves  so  little  scrupulous  in  raising. 
At  this  period  they  formed  only  a  minority  in  the 
National  Assembly ;  but  that  body  closed  its  sit¬ 
tings  on  the  thirtieth  of  September.  On  the  first 
of  October  the  Legislative  Assembly  opened,  from 
which,  by  a  law  that  had  been  passed  some  time 
before,  all  who  had  been  members  of  the  former 
legislature  were  excluded.  To  this  new  convo¬ 
cation  the  people  had  returned  their  recent 
patrons,  the  zealots  of  republicanism,  in  great  num¬ 
bers. 

The  National  Assembly,  immediately  before 
their  separation,  had  drawn  up  a  constitution  in 
regular  form,  embodying  the  different  innovations 
which  they  had  introduced,  and  upon  the  King 
having  signified  his  acceptance  of  this  fundamental 
act,  he  had  been  restored  to  the  exercise  of  his  au¬ 
thority.  From  the  temper  of  the  new  Legislature, 
however,  he  was  very  soon  compelled  to  commit 


The  Revolution  Begun.  153 


the  direction  of  affairs  to  a  Jacobin,  or  Girondist, 
ministry. 

At  this  time,  in  the  spring  of  1792,  numerous 
troops  of  emigrants  under  command  of  the  Count 
d’Artois,  and  other  distinguished  heads  of  the 
royalist  party,  who  had  left  France  immediately 
after  the  popular  insurrection  of  July,  1789,  were 
in  arms  in  different  parts  of  the  frontiers.  The 
troops  of  the  Emperor  of  Austria  and  the  King  of 
Prussia  were  ready  to  act  in  concert  with  them,  in 
conformity  with  the  menace  of  the  famous  declara¬ 
tion  of  Pilnitz,  of  the  preceding  summer,  and 
Sweden  and  other  foreign  powers  had  joined  the 
coalition.  To  add  to  the  formidable  nature  of 
this  threatened  attack,  France  was  suffering  at 
home  under  the  accumulated  evils  of  scarcity,  ex¬ 
hausted  finances,  and  rapidly-augmented  civil  dis¬ 
tractions. 

Yet,  thus  beset,  the  government  assumed  an  at¬ 
titude  worthy  of  a  great  people  determined  to  be 
free,  and  on  the  twentieth  of  April  declared  war 
against  Austria.  After  this  bold  step,  the  Giron- 


154  True  Stories  from  History. 

dists  returned  with,  renewed  ardor,  to  pursue  tlieir 
purpose  of  bringing  about  a  second  revolution, 
and  of  changing  the  monarchy  into  a  republic. 
The  Ministry  which  had  been  formed  from  their 
body,  having  been  dismissed  by  the  King  on  the 
thirteenth  of  June,  after  he  had  refused  his  assent 
to  several  bills  which  they  had  carried  through 
the  Assembly,  they  immediately  resorted  to  their 
old  instrument,  the  mob  of  the  faubourgs,  whom 
they  excited  to  make  a  violent  attack  upon  the 
Tuileries  on  the  twentieth,  in  the  course  of  which 
the  lives  of  the  royal  family  -were  exposed  to  the 
most  imminent  danger.  Another  riotous  assault, 
of  a  still  more  violent  description,  was  made  on 
the  royal  residence  on  the  tenth  of  August,  from 
which  the  King,  with  his  family,  was  obliged  to 
take  refuge  in  the  Legislative  Assembly.  The 
Assembly  immediately  passed  a  decree  suspend¬ 
ing  him  from  his  functions,  and  three  days  after¬ 
wards  he  was  conducted,  with  the  Queen,  his 
son,  and  the  Princess  Elizabeth,  to  the  prison 
of  the  Temple,  from  which  he  was  destined  to 


The  Revolution  Begun.  155 

be  led  forth  only  to  trial,  condemnation,  and  the 
scaffold. 

From  this  period  the  career  of  the  Revolution 
was,  for  a  long  time,  one  of  headlong  violence. 
Each  faction  that  obtained  possession  of  the  su¬ 
preme  authority  was,  in  its  turn,  supplanted  by 
another  still  more  furious  and  blood-thirsty  than 
itself.  On  the  2d  of  September  the  mob  again 
rose,  and  commenced  a  massacre  of  the  inmates  of 
all  the  prisons  of  Paris,  which  lasted  for  three 
days.  On  this  occasion  their  instigators  were  the 
members  of  the  Commune,  a  self-elected  body,  that 
had  recently  assumed  the  government  of  the  city. 
Danton,  and  some  others,  who  formerly  adhered 
to  the  party  of  the  Girondists,  had  become  mem¬ 
bers  of  the  Commune,  and  were  the  chief  projectors 
of  the  massacre.  The  Girondists,  or  at  least  the 
more  moderate  of  them,  were  now  at  the  head  of 
affairs,  and  no  longer  required  the  aid  of  their 
ancient  auxiliaries. 

On  the  21st  of  this  month,  the  Legislative 
Assembly  gave  place  to  the  Convention  in  which 


156  True  Stories  from  History. 

Danton,  Eobespierre,  Marat,  and  others  of  the 
worst  of  the  popular  agitators,  bad  seats.  But 
the  Girondists  still  continued  for  some  time  to  bear 
up  against  their  more  violent  antagonists.  As  the 
party  of  the  Constitutionalists,  however,  had  been 
by  this  time  completely  overthrown,  there  was 
no  difficulty  in  obtaining  an  unanimous  vote  for 
the  abolition  of  royalty ;  and  a  decree  to  that  effect 
was  carried  at  the  first  sitting,  by  acclamation.  On 
the  19th  of  November  the  Convention  proclaimed 
fraternity  and  aid  to  all  other  nations  who  might 
wish  to  rise  against  their  governments.  On  the 
17th  of  January,  1793,  they  condemned  the  King 
to  death,  and  on  the  21st  he  was  executed.  This 
vote  was  obtained  in  opposition  to  the  strenuous 
efforts  of  the  Girondists,  who,  although  they  had 
eagerly  sought  to  dethrone  Louis,  did  not  wish  to 
take  his  life.  It  proved  that  their  opponents,  now 
commonly  called  the  Mountain,  from  the  high 
place  of  the  hall  in  which  they  sat,  had  by  this 
time  attained  the  superiority  in  point  of  numbers 
and  influence  in  the  legislature.  It  was  some  time 


The  Revolution  Begun.  157 

after  this  first  defeat,  however,  before  the  power 
of  the  Girondists  was  entirely  overthrown. 

On  the  1st  of  February  the  Convention  declared 
war  against  England.  About  the  end  of  March 
commenced  the  formidable  insurrection  in  favor 
of  the  old  government,  in  La  Vendee,  a  district  on 
the  western  coast,  immediately  to  the  south  of  the 
Loire.  About  this  time,  also,  were  established  the 
two  famous  Committees  of  General  Security,  and 
of  Public  Safety,  the  seats  in  which  were  very 
soon  monopolized  by  the  most  violent  members 
of  the  Convention.  These  tribunals  long  exercised 
a  sanguinary  dictatorship  over  France,  before  which 
even  the  Convention  itself  trembled.  Meanwhile 
the  contest  between  the  Girondists  and  the  party 
of  the  Mountain  in  that  Assembly  still  proceeded 
with  increased  violence  and  varying  success.  But 
the  failure  of  the  former  in  their  attempt  to  carry 
the  condemnation  of  the  atrocious  Marat,  finally 
threw  the  victory  into  the  hands  of  their  oppo¬ 
nents,  the  Montagnards,  and  on  the  2d  of  June, 
after  a  week  of  popular  outrage,  of  the  most  terri- 


158  True  Stories  from  History. 

ble  description,  during  which  the  Convention  was 
kept  in  a  state  of  siege  by  the  mobs  of  the  Com¬ 
munes  and  the  Committees, — so  that  even  Danton 
and  his  friends  at  last  trembled  with  terror  before 
the  storm  they  had  themselves  assisted  in  raising, 
a  sweeping  decree  of  proscription  was  passed 
against  more  than  thirty  of  the  principal  Girondist 
deputies,  and  that  party  in  the  legislature  rvas 
extinguished.  This  event  made  Robespierre  the 
master  of  France.  Marat,  who  might  otherwise 
perhaps,  have  contended  with  him  for  the  tyranny, 
was  shortly  afterwards  assassinated  by  the  heroic 
Charlotte  Corday. 

The  year  that  followed  is  usually  called  the 
Reign  of  Terror.  On  the  24th  of  June  the  Conven¬ 
tion  proclaimed  a  new  Constitution,  which,  how¬ 
ever,  they  formally  declared  suspended  about  two 
months  afterwards.  But  the  party  which  had  now 
obtained  the  ascendency  was  in  reality  that  of  the 
lowest  multitude.  Even  Kobespierre,  all-powerful 
dictator  as  he  was,  was  merely  the  instrument 
whom  they  had  set  up  to  destroy  all  but  them- 


Tiie  Revolution  Begun.  159  • 

selves.  At  the  outcry,  therefore,  of  these  the  true 
rulers  of  France,  and  to  promote  their  momentary 
interests,  the  Convention  on  the  29th  of  September 
passed  a  law,  imposing  a  maximum  price  upon  all 
commodities.  This  was  the  last  and  most  ruinous 
excess  of  mob  legislation,  which  produced  uni¬ 
versal  stagnation  of  business  and  consequent 
scarcitjL 

On  the  6th  of  October  they  decreed  the  intro¬ 
duction  of  a  new  era,  to  commence  from  the  22d 
of  September,  1792,  the  first  day  of  the  Republic, 
and  also  of  a  new  calendar,  according  to  which  the 
year  was  to  be  reckoned  as  beginning  on  that  day, 
which  happened  to  be  the  autumnal  equinox,  and 
the  twelve  months  into  which  it  was  divided 
received  names  descriptive  of  the  natural  character 
of  each.  The  names  were,  for  Autumn,  (October,) 
Vendemiaire,  which  is  the  grape  harvest ;  (Novem¬ 
ber,)  Brumaire ,  cloudy,  misty  sky;  (December,) 
Fnmaire,  the  month,  of  hail  and  snow.  For  Win¬ 
ter,  (January,)  Nivose ,  the  snowy  month  ;  (Febru¬ 
ary,)  Plumose ,  the  rainy  month  ;  (March,)  Ventose , 


160  True  Stories  prom  History. 

month  of  wind  and  tempest.  For  Spring,  (April,) 
Germinal ,  the  season  in  which  the  seeds  begin  to 
grow;  (May,)  Floreal ,  the  month  in  which  vegeta¬ 
tion  flourishes ;  (June,)  Prairial ,  when  the  mea¬ 
dows  are  mowed.  Lastly,  for  summer,  (July,)  Mes- 
sidor ,  the  month  of  harvest ;  (August,)  Thermidor , 
which  warms  the  furrows,  and  (September,)  Fructi- 
dor ,  in  which  the  fruits  are  ripened.  The  old 
arrangement,  also,  of  the  division  of  days  into 
weeks  was  abandoned,  and  a  decade  of  days  sub¬ 
stituted  for  the  Sabbatical  division.  The  names 
of  the  days  were  derived  from  the  Latin.  They 
were  primidi ,  duodi,  tridi ,  quartidi,  quintidi ,  sextidi , 
septidi,  octidi ,  nonidi ,  and  decadi. 

The  French  Eepublic,  proud  of  the  new  era 
which  it  inaugurated  for  the  world,  desired  to 
become  one  of  the  dates  of  history  among  man¬ 
kind.  But  the  innovation  was  not  adopted  any- 
wdiere  but  in  France.  There  it  was  persisted  in 
till  the  beginning  of  the  year  1806,  when  they 
again  recurred  to  the  old  method  of  reckoning 
time  in  use  throughout  the  rest  of  Christendom. 


III. 


XECUTIONS  and  all  kinds  and  degrees  of 


atrocity  and  outrage  were  now  perpetrated, 
in  the  name  of  the  republic.  The  town  of  Lyons, 
where,  as  in  many  other  parts  of  France,  an  insur- 
reclion  had  broken  out,  was  given  up  for  punish¬ 
ment  to  a  troop  of  commissioned  destroyers,  by 
whom  the  finest  part  of  it  was  levelled  to  the 
ground,  and  the  inhabitants  butchered  by  hun¬ 
dreds.  In  this  last  respect  it  was  the  same  in 
Paris.  People  were  dragged  to  be  guillotined  by 
several  scores  at  a  time,  and  the  scaffold  remained 
constantly  wet  with  blood.  On  the  sixteenth  of 
October  the  Queen  of  Louis  XVI.,  the  unfortunate 
Marie- Antoinette,  was  beheaded.  On  the  twenty- 
first,  Brissot  and  twenty  more  of  the  Girondist 
deputies  underwent  the  same  fate.  The  execution 


11 


162  True  Stories  from  History, 

of  tlie  Duke  of  Orleans,  tlie  celebrated  Egalile' 
took  place  on  the  sixth  of  November.  On  the 
tenth  of  the  same  month,  the  Convention  declared 
the  abolition  of  Christianity,  in  place  of  which 
they  established  what  they  called  the  worship  of 
Reason. 

Meanwhile,  in  the  midst  of  these  frenzied  pro¬ 
ceedings,  the  excited  energies  of  the  country  con¬ 
tinued  both  to  struggle  successfully  with  the  inter¬ 
nal  opponents  of  the  government,  and  to  beat 
back  the  foreign  armies  that  threatened  its  in¬ 
dependence.  Toulon,  which  some  time  before 
had  been  taken  by  the  English — was  recovered, 
and  the  troops  of  the  emigrants  and  them  allies 
were  defeated  at  various  places.  Thus  triumphant 
over  his  enemies  at  home  and  abroad,  Robespierre 
— it  might  be  thought — had  founded  and  consoli¬ 
dated  his  despotism  in  a  manner  which  would 
have  secured  its  stability.  But  the  earthquake 
was  already  gathering  its  strength  which  was  to 
overthrow  him.  By  the  beginning  of  the  year 
1794,  a  party — professing  still  more  ferocious  and 


The  Eepublic. 


168 


■ultra-democratic  opinions  tlian  liis  own  —  the 
Hebertists,  as  they  were  called,  from  one  of  their 
most  active  leaders — had  obtained  the  ascendency 
in  the  Commune,  and  in  the  club  of  the  Corde¬ 
liers,  and  were  already  openly  assailing  the  popu¬ 
larity*,  and  through  that  the  power,  of  the  exist¬ 
ing  dictator. 

For  a  considerable  time  Eobespierre  bore  up 
with  intrepidity  and  effect  against  his  antagonists, 
and  even  succeeded  in  obtaining  the  condemna¬ 
tion  of  eighteen  of  their  chiefs,  including  Hebert 
himself,  who  were  all  executed  in  one  day.  On 
the  fifth  of  April,  Danton,  Camille  Desmoulins,  and 
about  twenty  more  of  their  adherents,  were  brought 
to  the  scaffold.  In  this  manner  Eobespierre  en¬ 
deavored  to  rid  himself  both  of  the  moderate  and 
the  more  violent  factions  by  which  he  was  threat¬ 
ened  ; — of  those  who  sought  to  pull  him  down 
from  his  supremacy  for  having  made  too  large  a 
use  of  proscription  and  the  guillotine,  as  well  as 
those  who  complained  that  he  had  not  shed 
enough  of  blood.  As  the  latter  party,  however, 


164  True  Stories  from  History. 

from  the  course  which  the  Revolution  had  hitherto 
run,  seemed  the  most  dangerous,  as  being  the  most 
likely  to  gather  strength,  he  probably  considered 
that  it  would  be  well  to  arm  himself  with  some 
additional  protection  against  its  assaults  from  an 
opposite  quarter.  He  therefore  induced  the  Con¬ 
vention  on  the  seventh  of  May,  to  proclaim  the 
restoration,  as  part  of  the  national  creed,  of  the 
two  doctrines  of  the  existence  of  a  Supreme  Being, 
and  the  Immortality  of  the  Soul,  which  had  been 
declared  to  be  antiquated  falsehoods  ^  short  time 
before  the  worship  of  Reason  was  established.  He 
probably  thought  by  this  measure  to  array  on  his 
side  all  those  who  shrunk  from  the  absolute 
Atheism  of  those  who  constituted  the  extreme  of 
the  revolutionary  party.  At  the  same  time,  to 
convince  his  friends  among  the  rabble  that  no  re¬ 
laxation  was  intended  in  any  other  part  of  his 
system,  he  took  care  that  blood  should  continue  to 
flow  on  the  scaffold  more  plentifully  than  ever. 

Among  other  victims  who  perished  about  this 
time,  was  the  sister  of  Louis  XVI.,  the  Princess 


The  Republic. 


165 


Elizabeth,  who  was  executed  on  "the  twelfth  of 
May.  But  all  his  management  and  determination 
combined  became  insufficient  at  last  to  preserve 
this  enormous  tyrant  from  destruction.  Perceiv¬ 
ing  his  power  to  be  evidently  tottering,  the  more 
moderate  party  of  the  Convention,  whom  he  had 
kept  in  awe  so  long  as  the  undivided  rabble  were 
at  his  devotion,  determined  now  that  an  opposition 
had  raised  itself  against  him  in  that  quarter,  to 
lend  their  best  exertions  to  aid  his  downfall,  in 
the  hope  of  being  able  to  seize  the  opportunity 
thereby  afforded  of  establishing  something  like  a 
regular  government  on  the  ruins,  or  the  alternate 
anarchy  and  depotism  that  had  so  long  desolated 
the  country.  The  attempt  was  a  somewhat  hazard¬ 
ous  one.  Its  result  might  have  been  the  substitu¬ 
tion,  at  least  for  a  time,  of  even  a  more  wild  and 
devastating  tyranny  than  that  of  Robespierre. 
But  partly  by  a  concurrence  of  favorable  circum- 
tances,  and  partly  by  the  able  dispositions  of  Bar- 
ras,  who  on  that  eventful  day  commanded  the 
military  attached  to  the  Convention,  on  the  27th 


166  True  Stories  from  History. 

of  July — flie  famous  9tli  Tliermidor — tlie  hopes 
of  .Robespierre  and  his  rivals  of  the  Com¬ 
mune  were  extinguished  together,  and  the  Na¬ 
tional  Legislature  was  once  more  reinstated  in 
liberty  and  supremacy.  This  memorable  catas¬ 
trophe  terminated  in  the  consignment  to  the  scaf¬ 
fold  of  Robespierre  and  ninety-one  of  his  principal 
partisans. 

Here  ended  the  outward  advance  of  the  revolu¬ 
tionary  wave.  In  the  events  that  follow  we 
distinctly  perceive  its  recoil.  This  reaction  must 
have  taken  place  at  some  point,  and  whatever  had 
been  the  event  of  the  9  th  Tliermidor,  could  not, 
probably,  have  been  much  longer  prevented.  It 
was  impossible  that  there  should  have  followed 
many  factions  after  that  of  Robespierre,  each  ex¬ 
ceeding  its  predecessor  in  violence.  Once  begun, 
too,  the  continuance  of  the  reflux  for  some  time 
was  inevitable.  All  the  tendencies  of  society  in 
that  direction  were  now  awakened  and  called  into 
action,  while  those  of  an  opposite  character,  having 
been  so  long  on  the  stretch,  were  exhausted,  and, 


The  Republic. 


167 


overdone  as  they  were,  left  capable  only  of  offer¬ 
ing,  every  day,  a  feebler  resistance  to  the  progress 
of  the  new  events. 

The  first  thing  which  the  liberated  Convention 
proceeded  to  do  was  to  restrain  within  certain  de¬ 
nned  bounds,  the  power  of  those  terrible  tribunals, 
the  Committees  of  Public  Safety  and  of  General 
Security.  This  accomplished,  the  Legislature, 
skilfully  availing  itself  of  the  vantage  ground  on 
which  it  stood,  of  the  aid  of  the  troops  who  had 
committed  themselves  to  its  cause  by  their  conduct 
on  the  27th  of  July,  and  of  the  general  longing  of 
the  country  for  a  government  of  law  and  order, 
next  dissolved  the  band  of  miscreants  who  called 
themselves  the  Communes  of  Paris,  and  took  into 
its  own  hands  the  functions  of  the  municipality  of 
the  city.  Subsequent  decrees  began  the  work  of 
reducing  the  clubs  to  subordination.  On  the  9lh 
of  December  seventy-three  deputies,  who  had  fled 
from  the  Convention  on  the  proscription  of  the 
Girondist  chiefs,  eighteen  months  before,  returned 
io  their  seats.  On  this  accession  of  strength,  the 


168  True  Stories  from  History. 

friends  of  moderation  and  legitimate  government, 
who  may  be  described  as  now  consisting  of  a  pow¬ 
erful  combination  of  Girondists,  Constitutionalists, 
and  men  of  all  degrees  of  opinion  which  had 
held  the  ascendency  previous  to  the  rise  of  Robes¬ 
pierre,  proceeded  to  the  adoption  of  still  bolder 
measures,  and  not  satisfied  with  redressing  the 
evils  under  which  the  State  groaned,  resolved  also 
to  set  about  the  punishment  of  their  authors. 
Many  deputies  of  the  democratic  party,  according¬ 
ly,  were  arrested,  tried,  and  condemned  to  death. 
On  the  24th  of  December,  also,  the  absurd  law  of 
maximum  was  suppressed,  after  it  had  been  in 
force  for  more  than  a  year,  and  produced  the  most 
disastrous  consequences  to  every  branch  of  the 
national  industry. 

These  different  acts  of  reparation,  however, 
could  not  of  course  be  effected  without  encounter¬ 
ing  opposition  from  those  who  conceived  them¬ 
selves  to  be  interested  in  the  continuance  of  the 
Reign  of  Terror.  The  rabble,  accordingly,  with 
the  remaining  chiefs  of  the  defeated  party  for  their 


The  Republic. 


169 


leaders,  at  last  roused  themselves  once  more  into 
activity,  and  rose  against  the  Convention  in  suc¬ 
cessive  revolts.  On  the  1st  of  April  and  the  20th 
of  May  in  particular,  the  days,  as  they  were  called, 
of  the  12th  Germinal,  and  the  1st  Prairial,  numer¬ 
ous  mobs  from  the  Faubourgs  attacked  the  hall  of 
the  legislative  body,  and  almost  succeeded  in  mak¬ 
ing  themselves  masters  of  the  State.  They  were, 
however,  on  both  occasions,  at  length  driven  back 
by  the  combined  efforts  of  the  armed  forces  of  the 
Sections,  which,  since  the  day  of  the  9th  Ther- 
midor,  had  supported  the  Convention,  and  of  what 
were  called  Freron’s  Jeunesse  Doree ,  a  militia  of 
young  volunteers,  chiefly  from  the  higher  and  mid¬ 
dle  classes,  whom  that  deputy  had  organized,  and 
whose  uniting  principle  was  that  of  hostility  to 
the  further  progress  of  the  Revolution. 

These  repeated  collisions,  meanwhile,  were  fol¬ 
lowed  by  their  natural  consequence,  the  separation, 
to  a  still  wider  distance  from  each  other,  of  the  two 
contending  parties.  In  fact,  for  some  time  the  re¬ 
action  began  to  assume  an  absolutely  anti-revolu- 


170  1  rue  Stories  from  History. 

tionary  tendency,  so  much,  so  that,  inspired  with 
new  hopes,  by  the  new  aspect  of  affairs,  the  priests 
and  other  emigrants  returned  to  France  in  great 
numbers.  Some  of  the  journals  even  ventured  to 
advocate  royalist  opinions,  and  to  oppose  the  Con¬ 
vention  as  still  animated  by  too  democratic  a 
spirit. 

In  these  circumstances  the  course  of  the  Legis¬ 
lature  was  one  of  peculiar  difficulty,  obliged  as  it 
was,  if  it  meant  to  save  the  State  from  anarchy  on 
the  one  hand,  and  slavery  on  the  other,  to  main¬ 
tain,  at  the  same  time,  a  firm  resistance  to  two  con¬ 
trary  influences,  both  of  great,  though,  for  the  mo¬ 
ment,  of  unequal  force.  They  proceeded,  with  all 
expedition,  to  give  the  country  a  new  Constitution. 
This,  known  by  the  name  of  the  Constitution  of 
the  year  III.,  was  promulgated  about  the  end  of 
June.  According  to  this  arrangement,  the  legisla¬ 
tive  power  of  the  State  was  committed  to  two  rep¬ 
resentative  bodies,  the  Council  of  Five  Hundred 
and  the  Council  of  Ancients,  consisting  of  half  that 
'  number  of  members,  while  a  committee,  or  Direct- 


The  Republic. 


171 


ory  of  Five  was  appointed  to  wield  the  executive 
authority. 

On  being  submitted  to  the  people  for  their 
acceptance,  this  Constitution  encountered  a  formid¬ 
able  opposition  from  the  royalists,  who  especially 
exerted  themselves  to  prevent  the  popular  ratifica¬ 
tion  of  two  appended  decrees,  by  which  the  Con¬ 
vention  had  reserved  to  itself  the  right  of  nomi¬ 
nating  two-thirds  of  the  members  of  the  new 
Legislature  from  its  own  body.  But  by  having 
recourse  again  to  the  military  talents  of  Barras, 
the  Convention  on  the  5tli  of  October,  the  13th 
Yendemaire,  obtained  a  complete  triumph  over  its 
opponents,  and  the  new  Constitution  was  estab¬ 
lished.  It  was  on  this  occasion  that  Bonaparte 
first  appeared  in  the  drama  of  the  Revolution, 
having  been  appointed  second  in  command  to 
Barras,  at  that  officer’s  own  request,  who  had  been 
struck  with  the  distinguished  military  talent  he 
displayed  at  the  recent  siege  of  Toulon. 

Raving  achieved  this  victory,  the  Convention 
closed  its  sittings  on  the  26th  of  October, 


172  True  Stories  from  History. 

after  having  existed  more  than  three  years. 
Among  its  last  decrees  were  two  especially  honor¬ 
able  to  itself,  and  indicative  of  the  improved  con¬ 
dition  of  the  times the  first  for  the  establish- 
•ment  of  a  National  Institute,  in  place  of  the  former 
scientific  and  literary  academies,  and  the  second 
for  the  general  pardon  and  oblivion  of  all  past 
political  delinquencies. 

Two  days  after  the  close  of  the  Convention,  the 
new  legislative  councils  held  their  first  sitting. 
The  contest  between  the  different  parties  which 
divided  the  State  continued  for  a  considerable 
time  after  this  period,  and  the  government  of  the 
Directory,  just  as  that  of  the  Convention  had 
been,  was  assailed  by  the  hostility  both  of  the 
royalists  and  of  the  violent  republicans.  The 
finances  of  the  country,  also,  were  in  the  most 
deplorable  state  of  exhaustion.  Although  the 
brilliant  military  successes  of  the  preceding  year 
had  conquered  for  France  advantageous  treaties 
of  peace  with  some  of  her  enemies,  a  new  alliance 
Ifad  just  been  formed  between  England,  Austria, 


The  Rep.ublic. 


173 


and  Russia,  by  which  powers  the  war  had  already 
been  renewed,  after  the  most  formidable  prepara¬ 
tions.  Such  was  the  complication  of  difficulties 
with  which  the  new  government  had  to  struggle 
at  entering  on  its  career  —  domestic  discord  — 
foreign  war — and  a  bankruptcy  of  resources.  In 
a  short  time,  however,  by  the  strenuous  exertions 
of  the  persons  charged  with  the  task  of  calling 
again  into  activity  the  different  energies  of  the 
State,  everything  began  to  assume  a  new  aspect. 
But  we  cannot  here  attempt  any  detail  either  of 
the  financial  operations  of  the  Directory,  or  of  the 
succession  of  victories  abroad,  which,  during  the 
campaigns  of  1796  and  the  following  years,  con¬ 
tinued  to  crown  the  republican  arms.  The  star  of 
Napoleon’s  fortunes  had  now  fully  risen,  and  was 
destined  to  shine,  for  many  years,  with  undimin¬ 
ished  lustre.  All  we  have  now  to  do  to  complete 
our  sketch  of  the  Revolution,  is  to  note  the  epochs 
of  those  few  remaining  changes  which  took  place, 
after  this  time,  in  the  domestic  government  of 
France,  and  then  to  recall  more  particular  atten- 


174  True  Stories  from  History. 

tion  to  a  few  of  the  most  startling  tragic  events  of 
the  great  drama. 

The  people  were  now  so  exhausted  that  it  was 
no  longer  easy  to  collect  even  a  mob  from  the 
faubourgs. of  the  capital.  After  this,  accordingly, 
the  parties  who  aspired  to  the  supreme  power, 
were  obliged  to  employ  secret  conspiracies  instead 
of  insurrections  and  popular  tumults.  Of  these 
conspiracies  several  were  formed  in  the  early  days 
of  the  Directory  both  by  the  Democrats  and  the 
Royalists.  But  they  were  all  detected  before  they 
produced  any  decided  effects.  In  May,  1797,  ac¬ 
cording  to  a  provision  in  the  new  constitution,  a 
third  past  of  the  members  of  the  Legislature  re¬ 
tired,  and  such  was  the  temper  of  the  country  at 
this  time,  that  their  places  were  filled  in  general 
with  persons  of  anti-revolutionary  politics.  This 
led  to  a  series  of  contests  between  the  legislative 
councils  and  the  majority  of  the  Directory,  which 
were  protracted  till  the  4th  of  September,  (the 
18th  Fructidor,)  when  the  latter,  by  an  act  of 
military  violence,  contrived  to  overwhelm  their 


The  Republic. 


175 


opponents,  and  once  more  to  secure  to  Lteir  own 
party  undisputed  supremacy  in  tlie  State.  On  this 
occasion  sixty-five  of  the  obnoxious  deputies,  to¬ 
gether  with  Carnot  and  Barthelemy,  who  formed 
the  minority  in  the  Directory,  were  expelled  from 
France. 

The  renovation  of  another  third  of  the  deputies 
in  the  following  May,  owing  to  the  exertions 
which  had  been  made  by  that  party  since  the  late 
discomfiture  of  their  antagonists,  would  have  in¬ 
troduced  into  the  Legislature  a  large  accession  of 
Jacobinical  members.  But  this  would  not  have 
suited  the  views  of  the  Directory,  and  they  annul¬ 
led  the  elections.  Next  year,  however,  (May, 
1799,)  the  returns  were  of  the  same  complexion, 
and  the  executive  found  it  now  expedient  to  yield. 
The  consequence  was,  that  Jacobinism  again  as¬ 
sumed  the  ascendant,  and  threatened  to  renew  the 
horrors  of  its  former  domination.  But  the  people 
were  now  tired  of  convulsions.  Their  interest  in 
politics,  even,  was  almost  extinguished.  It  was 
impossible,  therefore,  to  make  them  again  the  in- 


176  True  Stories  from  History. 

struments  of  any  class  of  politicians,  as  they  were 
in  the  early  days  of  the  Revolution. 

In  the  course  of  a  few  weeks,  however,  the 
Jacobins  effected  the  introduction  of  two  of  their 
own  number  into  the  Directory,  which  gave  them 
the  majority  of  voices  there.  Soon  after  this,  the 
Jacobin  Club,  which  had  been  shut  up  by  the 
government  after  the  fall  of  Robespierre,  was  re¬ 
established.  While  this,  however,  and  many 
other  signs  seemed  to  portend  a  new  impulse  of 
the  Revolution  towards  confusion  and  anarchy, 
the  sudden  arrival  of  Bonaparte  from  Egypt 
quickly  led  to  the  well-known  event  of  the  18th 
Brumaire,  (the  9th  of  November,)  when  that  vic¬ 
torious  soldier,  placing  himself  at  the  head  of  their 
own  guard,  dictated  his  commands  to  the  assem¬ 
bled  Legislature,  and  having  ordered  them  to  trans¬ 
fer  their  sittings  to  St.  Cloud,  next  day  entered 
their  place  of  meeting  in  the  palace  there,  and 
made  his  grenadiers  disperse  them  at  the  point  of 
the  bayonet. 

The  hero  of  the  Revolution  now  was  Napoleon 


The  Republic. 


177 


Bonaparte.  That  great  movement  from  having 
been  originally  popular,  had  now  become  military, 
— having  been  national,  was  now  subservient  to 
the  will  of  an  individual.  This,  indeed,  was  a 
result  towards  which  events  had  been  for  some 
time  tending,  and  now  that  it  was  realized,  the 
Revolution  may  be  said  to  have  been  completed. 
Monarchy — the  unlimited  sway  of  one  man — was 
in  fact  restored.  A  single  hand  now  controlled 
that  mighty  tide  of  change  which  had  been  set 
in  motion,  and  so  long  impelled,  by  the  strength 
of  a  whole  people. 

The  first  constitution  established  by  Bonaparte, 
in  room  of  that  which  he  had  destroyed,  was  one 
at  the  head  of  which  he  placed  himself,  and  his 
fellow-conspirators,  Sieyes  and  Roger  Ducos,  the 
minority  of  the  late  Directory ;  while  two 
small  Chambers,  composed  each  of  only  twenty- 
five  members,  presented  to  the  nation  the  ghost 
of  a  legislature.  In  the  course  of  a  few  weeks, 
Sieves  and  Ducos  resigned  their  places  in  the  tri¬ 
umvirate,  to  make  room  for  Cambacer^s  and 


178  True  Stories  from  History. 

Lebrun,  and  Bonaparte  now  assumed  tbe  distinc¬ 
tive  title  of  First  Consul.  Tbe  members  of  tbe 
legislative  chamber  were  increased  to  three  hun¬ 
dred,  the  election  of  all  of  whom  was  vested  in  a 
Senate,  the  members  of  which  had  been  previously 
named  by  the  Consuls. 


IV. 


Vlie  Jittnnptcii  (tstapc  of  tire  ^opl  jfn mthr. 

N  tlie  18th  of  April,-  in  the  year  1791,  the 


' ■  first  direct  demonstration  was  given  to  the 
King  that  he  was  a  prisoner  in  the  Tuileries.  The 
royal  family,  intending  to  go  to  St.  Cloud,  had 
already  entered  the  carriage  for  that  purpose, 
when  the  people  prevented  their  departure,  and 
compelled  them  to  return  to  the  palace.  The  mob 
on  this  occasion  assembled  in  the  Place  du  Carrous¬ 
el,  where  the  royal  carriage  was  also  drawn  up. 
This  commotion  has  been  attributed,  by  some  writ¬ 
ers,  to  the  intrigues  of  the  Court  itself.  The  King, 
it  is  alleged,  wished  to  make  it  seem  that  he  was 
deprived  of  his  liberty,  in  order  that  he  might  dis¬ 
gust  moderate  men  with  the  Revolution,  and  jus¬ 
tify  in  their  eyes  the  step  he  had  already  resolved 
to  take,  of  flying  from  the  kingdom.  It  is  prob- 


180  True  Stories  from  History. 

able  enough,  indeed,  that  Louis  and  his  family 
were  not  very  sorry,  after  the  affair  turned  out  as 
it  did,  to  have  this  convincing  proof  to  appeal  to 
of  the  durance  in  which  they  were  held.  But  it 
seems  quite  unnecessary  to  suppose  that  they  actu¬ 
ally  for  this  purpose  got  up  a  scene  so  perfectly  in 
keeping  with  the  other  events  of  the  time,  and 
therefore  so  likely  to  occur  without  any  interfer¬ 
ence  of  their  own. 

However,  on  the  night  of  the  20th  of  June  fol¬ 
lowing,  the  King  and  his  family  set  out  on  their 
ill-managed  and  unfortunate  attempt  to  escape 
from  the  kingdom.  Preparations  for  this  flight 
had  been  for  some  time  making.  The  person  with 
whom  the  necessary  arrangements  were  concerted 
for  facilitating  the  departure  of  the  fugitives,  and 
protecting  them  from  interruption  on  their  route, 
was  the  Marquis  de  Bouille,  then  military  com¬ 
mandant  of  the  several  departments  comprising 
the  whole  territory  from  the  immediate  neigh¬ 
borhood  of  Paris  to  the  frontiers  of  the  Low 
Countries. 


The  Attempted  Escape.  181 

It  was  absolutely  necessary,  of  course,  for  M. 
dc  Bouille’s  guidance,  that  the  particular  day  on 
wbicb  the  royal  family  were  to  set  out  on  their 
journey,  should  be  fixed  and  made  known  to  him. 
But  notwithstanding  his  earnest  representations 
upon  this  point,  he  could  not  for  a  long  time  get 
the  King  to  come  to  any  decision  upon  this  sub¬ 
ject.  First  the  12tli  of  June  was  proposed,  then 
the  17th,  and  subsequently  the  19th  of  the  same 
month.  The  King  wrote  to  him  that  on  this  last- 
mentioned  day  he  hoped  to  be  ready  to  take  his 
departure.  But  in  the  letter  conveying  this  inti¬ 
mation,  the  writer  forgot  to  prefix  to  his  ciphers,  the 
mark  indicating  where  their  key  was  to  be  found, 
and  it  cost  M.  de  Bouille  several  hours  labor  before 
he  discovered  the  secret  of  their  interpretation. 
He  immediately  sent  off  the  Duke  de  Choiseul  to 
the  King,  to  say  that  everything  would  be  ready 
by  the  19th,  and  that  in  case  of  any  absolutely  in¬ 
surmountable  impediment  arising,  the  attempt 
might  still  succeed  although  deferred  till  the  20th, 
but  that  after  that  day  no  chance  would  remain. 


182  True  Stories  from  History. 

Although  the  King  received  this  inessage,  he 
eventually  determined  not  to  leave  the  Tuileries 
till  the  20th,  and  it  required  the  earnest  exertions 
of  the  Duke  de  Choiseul  to  get  everything  in  read¬ 
iness  for  the  commencement  of  the  journey  even 
then.  At  last  it  was  arranged  that  the  attempt 
should  he  made  at  twelve  o’clock  on  the  night 
of  the  20th,  literally  the  very  last  minute  allowed 
by  Bouille. 

On  that  evening,  accordingly,  the  different  mem¬ 
bers  of  the  family  retired  to  bed  at  the  usual  hour. 
After  some  time  the  King  rose  and  proceeded  to 
the  Queen’s  apartment,  where  he  was  soon  joined 
by  his  children,  and  his  sister,  Madame  Elizabeth. 
One  of  the  persons  privy  to  the  plan  was  M.  de 
Simolin,  the  Russian  ambassador,  who  had  previ¬ 
ously  procured  the  necessary  passport  from  the 
Minister  of  War,  under  pretence  that  it  was  for  a 
Russian  Baroness  de  Korff,  with  her  two  children, 
attended  by  a  female  servant,  a  valet  de  chambre, 
and  three  footmen.  The  party,  therefore,  now 
attired  themselves  in  dresses  suitable  to  the  char- 


The  Attempted  Escape.  188 

&eter  they  were  to  sustain.  The  King,  who  was 
to  pass  as  the  valet,  put  on  a  brown  frock  coat  and 
a  wig.  The  Queen,  and  Madame  Elizabeth,  both, 
wearing  large  hats  to  conceal  their  features  as 
much  as  possible,  personated  the  Baroness  and  her 
maid,  and  the  children  were  represented  by  the 
Dauphin  and  his  sister,  the  former  being  dressed 
as  a  girl.  It  had  also  been  resolved  that  Madame 
de  Tourzel,  the  governess  of  the  children,  should 
accompany  them,  so  that  the  party,  not  including 
attendants,  was  to  consist  of  six  persons.  It  had 
been  necessary,  therefore,  to  order  a  carriage  to  be 
built  considerably  larger  than  the  usual  size,  to 
contain  so  many  persons.  This  carriage,  which 
had  been  kept  concealed  for  some  time,  was  now 
waiting  outside  the  city  walls,  immediately  beyond 
the  Barrieie  St.  Martin. 

To  escape  from  the  Tuileries  without  observa¬ 
tion,  even  at  that  late  hour  of  the  night,  required 
the  greatest  precaution.  But  there  was  a  small 
chamber  near  the  royal  apartments,  which  used  to 
be  occupied  by  one  of  the  female  servants,  and 


184  True  Stories  from  History. 

from  which  there  was  a  communication  to  another 
room  on  the  ground  floor,  having  a  private  door 
opening  upon  one  of  the  courts.  The  Queen  had 
taken  possession  of  this  chamber,  having  removed 
the  servant  to  another  part  of  the  palace.  She 
had  also  obtained  the  key  of  the  apartment  below. 
Here,  therefore,  was  a  way  of  exit  which  saved  the 
risk  of  making  the  attempt  by  any  of  the  principal 
doors.  Availing  themselves,  accordingly,  of  this 
outlet,  Madame  de  Tourzel  and  the  two  children 
first  made  their  escape.  They  were  followed  by 
Madame  Elizabeth,  who  was  accompanied  by  a 
friend  as  a  conductor,  and  then  the  King,  having 
also  a  guide  with  him,  left  the  palace.  All  these 
parties  made  their  way  without  difficulty  to  where 
a  vehicle  was  waiting  for  them  to  convey  them  to 
the  place  where  their  travelling  coach  was  stationed. 

The  distance  they  had  to  walk  was  at  most  but 
a  few  hundred  yards,  yet  the  Queen,  who  was  the 
last  to  leave  the  Tuileries,  was  so  unfortunate  a3 
to  lose  her  way  entirely  in  attempting  to  reach 
the  rendezvous,  although  she  was  accompanied  by 


The  Attempted  Escape.  185 

a  person  who  attempted  to  act  as  her  guide.  The 
first  object  she  saw  on  entering  the  Place  du  Car¬ 
rousel,  was  the  carriage  of  La  Fayette,  who  had 
command  of  the  National  guard,  stationed  round 
the  palace.  The  night  was  very  dark,  but  the  at¬ 
tendants  of  the  General  carried  torches,  the  light 
of  which  the  Queen — disguised  as  she  was — natu¬ 
rally  wished  to  avoid,  and  she  therefore  walked 
aside  till  the  carriage  had  passed.  This  rencontre, 
however,  or  the  movement  she  had  made  to  es¬ 
cape  from  it,  seems  to  have  confused  both  herself 
and  her  conductor.  Instead  of  turning  to  the 
left,  they  took  the  opposite  direction,  and  actually 
crossing  the  river  by  the  Pont  Eoyal,  they  wan¬ 
dered  for  a  long  time,  bewildered  among  the 
quays  and  streets.  At  last  they  ventured  to  ask  a 
sentinel  to  tell  them  the  way.  Having,  by  his 
direction,  re-crossed  the  river,  they  soon  found 
themselves  once  more  in  the  court  of  the  Tuileries, 
and  from  thence  they  found  their  way,  without 
further  accident,  to  the  place  where  the  carriage 
was  waiting.  The  fugitives,  however,  had  in  this 


186  True  Stories  from  History, 

May  already  lost  a  full  liour  of  time,  when  every 
moment  was  precious. 

But  this  was  not  the  only  misfortune  of  the 
same  kind  which  attended  the  commencement  of 
their  journey.  When  they  were  all  assembled, 
and  seated  in  the  coach,  the  Count  de  Fersen 
mounted  the  box  to  drive.  He  was  unacquainted 
with  the  route  leading  to  the  Barriere  St.  Martin, 
and  took  the  opposite  course,  and  by  a  circuitous 
way,  at  length,  with  considerable  loss  of  time, 
reached  the  place  where  them  travelling-carriage 
stood  ready  for  them.  On  entering  this  vehicle  they 
overturned  the  other  in  a  ditch,  and  left  it  there. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  pursue,  except  very  curso¬ 
rily,  the  remainder  of  the  story  of  this  unfortunate 
journey  of  the  royal  fugitives.  At  the  village  of 
Bondy,  about  three  leagues  from  Paris,  they  were 
joined  by  a  coach  containing  two  other  ladies 
who  had  belonged  to  the  Court,  and  the  two  car¬ 
riages  thenceforward  proceeded  in  company. 
This  augmented  attendance,  while  it  added  to  the 
ordinary  chances  of  delay,  was  well  calculated,  in 


The  Attempted  Escape.  187 

conjunction  -with  the  unusual  appearance  of  the 
vehicle  in  which  the  King  rode,  to  attract  general 
attention  to  the  disguised  travellers,  and  thereby 
greatly  to  increase  the  risk  of  their  persons  being 
discovered.  Both  at  Claye  and  afterwards  at 
Chalons,  some  time  was  lost  in  repairing  the  car¬ 
riages.  At  Chalons,  the  only  large  town  through 
which  they  had  to  pass,  a  few  idlers  gathered 
round  the  carriage  while  the  horses  were  changed, 
and  the  King  somewhat  imprudently  put  his  head 
out  of  the  window.  He  was  recognized  by  the 
post-master,  who  felt  that  his  Sovereign’s  life  was 
in  his  hands,  and  without  manifesting  the  least 
surprise,  he  helped  to  put  to  the  horses,  and  or¬ 
dered  the  postilions  to  drive  on.  When  the  car¬ 
riage  passed  the  gates  of  that  town,  the  royal  party 
exclaimed  with  one  voice,  “  We  are  saved.” 

About  half-past  six  o’clock  in  the  evening  the 
party  arrived  at  Pont  Sommerville,  where  they 
expected  to  meet  the  first  detachment  of  military 
sent  forward  for  their  protection  by  the  Marquis 
de  Bouille.  But  the  Duke  of  Choiseul,  to  whom 


188  True  Stories  from  History. 

tlie  command  of  the  detachment  had  been  given, 
after  waiting  beyond  the  latest  hour  he  conceived 
it  possible  the  arrival  was  to  be  looked  for,  had 
been  obliged  to  retire  from  his  post.  This  he 
seems  to  have  done  about  an  hour  before,  so  that 
if  it  had  not  been  for  the  mistakes  and  delays  in 
the  beginning  of  the  journey,  the  royal  party 
would  have  been  in  time  for  this  escort. 

As  matters  had  turned  out,  there  was  too  much 
reason  to  fear  that  all  the  arrangements  that  had 
been  made  for  the  remainder  of  the  journey  would 
be  disconcerted  and  rendered  unavailable.  It 
was  possible  that  the  same  necessity  which  ap¬ 
peared  to  have  prevented  this  first  detachment 
from  remaining  at  its  station,  would  also  withdraw 
the  others  from  the  several  points  at  which  they 
were  to  have  been  jdaced,  before  the  arrival  of  the 
King.  And  so,  in  some  sort,  it  happened.  When 
the  travellers  reached  the  town  of  St.  Menehould 
at  half-past  eight,  the  second  guard  which  had 
been  stationed  at  this  place,  although  they  had  not 
left  the  town,  had  dismounted  and  dispersed  them- 


The  Attempted  Escape.  189 

selves.  They  had  done  this  to  avoid  the  observa¬ 
tion  of  the  inhabitants,  whose  suspicions  had 
begun  to  be  excited  by  the  length  of  time  during 
which  the  troops -had  remained  waiting,  as  they 
asserted,  for  the  arrival  of  a  quantity  of  treasure 
belonging  to  the  government,  which  still  had  not 
made  its  appearance.  But  the  consequence  was 
that,  on  the  royal  carriages  reaching  the  town, 
none  of  the  expected  preparations  appeared  to 
have  been  made.  The  King,  therefore,  was  in  the 
greatest  perplexity,  and  in  his  agitation,  and  in 
the  absence  of  any  other  person  to  take  the  direc¬ 
tion  of  affairs,  he  was  obliged  to  expose  himself  so 
much  that  he  excited  both  the  notice  and  the  sus¬ 
picions  of  the  b}rstanders.  It  may  be  supposed 
that  he  did  not  sustain  his  new  character  of  valet 
very  naturally  in  all  respects.  Drouet,  the  post¬ 
master,  in  particular,  felt  almost  convinced  that  he 
was  in  reality  the  King,  especially  after  comparing 
his  face  with  the  engraving  on  an  assignat  which 
he  happened  to  have  in  his  possession.  He,  how¬ 
ever,  did  not  attempt  to  detain  the  carriage,  which, 


190  True  Stories  from  History. 

after  a  short  delay,  proceeded  on  the  road  towards 
Clermont.  But  as  soon  as  it  had  departed,  he  sent 
his  son  forward  toVarenn.es,  to  communicate  what 
he  suspected  to  the  magistrates  of  that  town.  By 
this  time  the  report  that  the  King  was  in  the  car¬ 
riage  had  spread  itself  generally  among  the  inhab¬ 
itants  of  St.  Menehould,  and  the  tocsin  having 
sounded,  and  the  drum  beat  to  arms,  the  National 
Guard  had  assembled,  and  would  not  permit  the 
departure  of  M.  de  Bouille’s  dragoons,  who  other¬ 
wise  would  have  followed  the  royal  party. 


Y. 


Capture  it n at  1 1) t  Return. 

IIE  fugitives  liad  left  Clermont  before  Drouet 


arrived.  Here  also  the  commander  of  the 
detachment  sent  for  their  protection  had  been 
obliged,  after  remaining  at  his  post  as  long  as 
possible,  to  dismiss  his  men  to  their  barracks 
before  the  King  made  his  appearance. 

From  Clermont  they  proceeded  to  Varennes, 
■which  they  reached  at  half-past  eleven  at  night. 
A  stream  passes  through  this  little  town,  separat¬ 
ing  it  into  two  parts,  the  upper  and  lower  town. 
A  relay  of  horses  had  been  stationed  in  the  lower 
town,  but  the  royal  party  had  not  been  informed 
of  it,  and  they  stopped  at  the  entrance  of  the  upper 
town.  The  King  had  been  surprised  and  greatly 
alarmed  at  not  finding  that  arrangements  had  been 
made  for  continuing  the  journey.  The  peril  of 


192  True  Stories  from  History. 


pursuit  was  becoming,  of  course,  greater  with 
every  moment  of  delay.  He  and  tlie  Queen  de¬ 
scended  from  tbe  carriage,  and  wandered  about  the 
deserted  streets  for  some  time,  inquiring  at  every 
house  where  lights  were  seen,  but  seeking  in  vain 
for  horses  to  carry  them  on.  Meanwhile  the  pos 
tilions,  wearied  with  the  rapid  journey,  and  impa¬ 
tient  for  rest,  threatened  to  leave  them  in  the 
street.  By  means  of  large  rewards  and  promises, 
they  however  persuaded  them  to  continue  the 
journey.  They  were  again  on  their  way,  and  the 
royal  party  consoled  themselves  with  thinking  that 
this  was  onty  a  misunderstanding,  and  that  they 
would  soon  reach  the  camp  of  M.  de  Bouille, 
where  they  would  find  safety.  The}'-  traversed 
the  upper  town  without  difficulty,  all  was  tranquil 
and  quiet.  Those  who  were  watching  them  were 
silent  and  concealed. 

Between  the  upper  and  lower  town  a  bridge 
spans  the  stream,  which  is  reached  through  a  mas¬ 
sive  and  gloomy  arch,  surmounted  by  a  feudal 
tower  which  had  braved  the  storms  of  many  years. 


The  Capture  a  n  d  Return.  193 


As  the  carriages  were  passing  through  this  arched 
way  towards  the  bridge,  they  were  stopped  by  a 
barricade  which  had  been  constructed  for  the  pur¬ 
pose,  and  the  horses’  heads  were  seized  by  armed 
men,  who  demanded  the  passports  of  the  travellers. 
The}r  were,  therefore,  obliged  to  return  to  the 
house  of  the  mayor  of  the  town,  where  they  alight¬ 
ed.  At  the  same  time  the  bells  were  rung,  the 
inhabitants  aroused,  and  the  National  Guards  of 
the  town  and  the  neighboring  villages  gathered 
together  around  the  house  of  the  Mayor.  Any¬ 
thing  like  forcible  resistance,  of  course,  was  utterly 
unavailing,  with  such  disparity  of  numbers.  It 
was  alike  in  vain  that  the  King  denied  his  rank, 
and  protested  against  the  detention.  His  features 
and  those  of  the  Queen  betrayed  them,  and  he  was 
at  last  obliged  to  acknowledge  himself.  He  then 
appealed  to  them  by  every  consideration  which  he 
could  plead,  for  his  release.  He  told  them  that 
they  held  in  their  hands  the  destiny  of  himself,  the 
Queen,  their  innocent  children,  and  of  Madame 

Elizabeth.  Their  lives  even— the  fate  of  the  king- 
13 


194  True  Stories  from  History. 

dom — the  safety  of  the  Constitution — all  that  ivas 
dear  to  him,  as  husband,  father,  brother,  and  King 
— all  that  was  dear  to  them  as  Frenchmen,  de¬ 
pended  upon  their  decision.  He  declared  that  it 
was  not  his  purpose  to  leave  France,  but  that  he 
was  only  going  to  place  himself  in  the  hands  of  his 
friendly  subjects,  where,  surrounded  by  a  part  of 
the  army,  he  could  make  terms  with  the  revolu¬ 
tionary  faction,  and  secure  the  Constitution  and 
the  peace  of  the  country,  “  If  you  do  not  suffer 
me  to  go  on,”  continued  he,  “  the  Constitution,  I 
myself,  France,  all  are  lost.  I  conjure  you,  as  a 
father,  as  a  husband,  as  a  man,  as  a  citizen,  leave 
the  road  free  to  us ;  in  an  hour  we  shall  be  saved, 
and  with  us  France  is  saved.  And  if  you  guard 
in  your  hearts  that  fidelity  your  words  profess  for 
him  who  was  your  master,  I  order  you  as  your 
King,” 

The  crowd  of  men  and  women  who  surrounded 
him,  and  heard  these  earnest  entreaties,  could  not 
fail  to  be  moved,  even  to  tears.  Between  their 
pity  for  such  terrible  reverse  of  fortune,  and  their 


The  Capture  and  Return.  195 


conscience  as  patriots,  they  scarcely  knew  kow  to 
resolve  and  act.  The  sigkt  of  tlic  Iking,  who 
pressed  their  hands  in  his,  and  of  the  Queen,  so 
beautiful  and  majestic  in  her  grief,  striving  to 
move  them  by  her  entreaties,  almost  fixed  their 
wavering  purposes.  Their  instincts  of  Humanity 
would  have  bid  him  go  in  safety,  but  their  con¬ 
science  of  duty,  and  their  fear  of  consequences, 
compelled  them  to  detain  him. 

The  Queen  seeing  then  the  wife  of  M.  Sausse, 
the  Mayor,  approached  her  with  her  entreaties, 
hoping  to  find  pity  and  compassion  in  her  woman’s 
heart.  She  showed  her  the  Dauphin  and  his  sis¬ 
ter.  “You  are  a  mother,”  said  the  Queen,  “you 
are  a  wife ;  the  fate  of  a  wife  and  mother  is  in 
your  hands.  Think  what  I  must  suffer  for  these 
children,  and  for  my  husband.  At  one  word  from 
you  I  shall  owe  them  to  you.  The  Queen  of 
France  will  owe  you  more  than  her  kingdom — 
more  than  her  life.”  But  there  was  no  touch  of 
pity  in  that  hard  woman’s  heart.  Selfishness  was 
there,  but  no  generosity.  She,  too,  thought  of  her 


196  True  Stories  from  History. 

husband.  She  thought  of  the  reward  he  would 
gain  by  sending  back  the  fugitives.  She  thought 
of  this,  and  her  bosom  was  guarded  with  triple 
mail  against  all  agonies  and  despair,  against  all 
depths  of  entreaty,  all  intensity  of  suffering. 

Through  all  the  remainder  of  that  long  night, 
the  King  went  back  and  forth  between  the  Queen 
and  Madame  Elizabeth,  who  had  retired  to  an 
upper  room,  and  the  people  who  crowded  around 
the  doorway  of  the  mayor.  He  sought  to  soothe 
and  console  his  wife  and  sister ;  he  still  endeavored 
to  gain  over  the  crowd.  He  hoped,  also,  that  he 
would  be  rescued  by  the  forces  of  M.  de  Bouille 
before  the  couriers  could  return  from  Paris.  He 
believed  that  his  friends  were  mustering  around 
him,  and  that  as  soon  as  they  gathered  sufficient 
numbers,  they  would  release  him.  And  so  the 
night  wore  on.  Hour  after  hour  chimed,  and  yet 
there  came  no  rescue.  So  imperfect  and  incom¬ 
plete  had  been  the  preparations — partly  for  the 
reason  that  the  King  had  himself  thwarted  them, 
by  the  delay  and  uncertainty  of  his  flight  from 


The  Capture  and  Return.  197 

Paris — that  it  was  not  until  after  tire  King  had 
been  sent  away  towards  Paris  that  M.  de  Bouille 
arrived  at  Yarennes,  after  a  forced  march.  His 
forces  were  too  small,  and  his  horses  too  much 
fatigued,  to  continue  the  pursuit. 

The  King  and  the  Queen,  and  the  other  mem¬ 
bers  of  the  royal  party,  would  gladly  have  found 
a  respite  from  their  sufferings  in  sleep.  But  their 
terror  and  despair  were  too  great.  The  threaten¬ 
ing  murmurs  of  the  people,  the  clamorous  voices, 
the  noise  of  footsteps,  the  rattling  of  arms, — a  tide 
of  sound  which  with  increasing  force  came  surging 
up  to  their  ears,  through  all  the  night,  and  into 
that  gray  morning, — kept  them  from  rest.  So  ter¬ 
rible  was  the  suffering  of  that  beautiful  Queen 
between  the  rage,  the  fear,  the  agony  and  despair 
which  waged  conflict  in  her  mind,  that  in  that  one 
night  her  hair  was  changed  from  its  natural  au¬ 
burn,  and  became  as  white  as  snow. 

At  seven  o’clock  the  next  morning,  the  servants 
of  the  palace  on  entering  the  apartments  of  the 
King  and  Queen  at  Paris,  first  discovered  their 


198  True  Stories  from  History, 


flight  and  gave  the  alarm.  During  the  night  be¬ 
fore  La  Fayette  had  been  twice  at  the  Tuileries  to 
assure  himself  that  his  orders  had  been  obeyed,  and 
that  the  guard  were  at  their  posts.  The  fugitives 
had  thus  several  hours  the  start  of  any  attempt  that 
could  be  made  to  pursue  them,  even  supposing  it 
could  be  ascertained  in  what  direction  they  had  fled. 

All  Paris  was  stirred  up  in  the  greatest  commo¬ 
tion.  The  alarm  was  circulated  everywhere. 
“The  King  has  escaped” — was  repeated  every¬ 
where.  Suspicions  of  treachery  were,  at  once, 
aroused.  Even  La  Fayette  was  suspected  of  hav¬ 
ing  connived  at  the  flight.  It  was  not  easily 
believed  that  so  large  a  party  could  have  eluded 
the  vigilance  of  the  guard,  and  made  their  way 
out  of  Paris,  unless  they  had  been  assisted  b}^  the 
guard  themselves.  The  doors  of  the  Tuileries 
were  forced  open  by  the  populace,  who  rushed 
into  the  royal  apartments,  and  committed  all  man¬ 
ner  of  excesses,  as  if  in  this  way  they  could 
avenge  themselves  for  their  disappointment.  The 
general  sentiment  of  indignation  against  the  mon- 


The  Capture  and  Return.  190 

arcli  displayed  itself  in  the  defacement  of  the  royal 
arms,  and  other  similar  emblems,  wherever  they 
presented  themselves. 

The  Assembly  having  met  at  nine  o’clock,  the 
mayor  immediately  repaired  to  their  hail,  to  an¬ 
nounce  in  form  the  departure — or  as  it  was  called 
the  carrying  off— of  the  King.  The  Assembly  then 
passed  the  necessary  decrees  for  the  despatch  of 
couriers  after  the  fugitives,  the  detention  of  all 
persons  attempting  to  leave  the  kingdom,  the 
maintenance  of  the  executive  government  during 
the  absence  of  its  head,  and  whatever  other  meas¬ 
ures  were  demanded  in  order  to  uphold  the  tran¬ 
quillity  of  the  city  and  of  the  kingdom,  and  to  re¬ 
assure  the  public  mind. 

The  first  of  the  messengers  sent  from  Paris 
reached  Varennes  on  the  morning  of  the  22d,  and 
immediately  proceeded  to  the  house  at  which  their 
Majesties  were  detained,  and  delivered  to  the 
King  the  decree  of  the  National  Assembly  for  his 
arrest.  All  chance  of  escape  was  now  over.  At 
eight  o’clock,  therefore,  the  royal  family  quietly 


200  True  Stories  from  History.. 


submitted  again  to  take  their  seats,  in  order  to  be 
driven  back  to  Paris  in  the  same  carriage  that  had 
conveyed  them  thus  far  on  their  flight  from  the 
capital.  Eeturning  by  Clermont  and  St.  Menehould 
they  arrived,  about  eleven  o’clock  at  night,  at 
Chalons,  where  they  remained  till  next  morning. 
Continuing  their  route  on  the  23d,  they  proceeded 
that  day  as  far  as  Epernay.  Here  they  were 
joined  by  Barnave,  Petion,  and  De  Latour-Mau- 
bourg,  the  commissioners  from  the  National  As¬ 
sembly.  The  two  former  of  these  took  their 
places  in  the  first  carriage  with  their  majesties,  in 
order  to  protect  them  from  the  violence  of  the 
multitude  who  thronged  the  highway,  and  the  lat¬ 
ter  seated  himself  with  the  attendants  in  the  other. 
“  An  immense  multitude  and  an  army  ” — said  the 
commissioners,  in  a  letter  to  the  Assembly — “  ac¬ 
companied  our  progress.”  They  passed  the  night 
of  the  24th  at  Dormans,  and  at  seven  o’clock  on 
the  evening  of  the  following  day,  the  royal  car¬ 
riage,  escorted  by  about  ten  thousand  National 
Guards,  and  a  mob,  whose  numbers  had  been 


The  Capture  and  Keturn.  201 

rapidly  increasing  all  the  way  from  Varennes,  en¬ 
tered  tlie  garden  of  tire  Tuileries. 

The  news  of  the  King’s  arrest  had  been  brought 
to  Paris  two  days  before,  by  a  messenger  specially 
despatched  for  that  purpose,  by  the  civic  author¬ 
ities  of  Varennes.  The  Assembly  had,  therefore, 
nearly  three  days  for  the  arrangement  of  the  meas¬ 
ures  to  be  taken  on  his  arrival.  They  provided, 
accordingly,  in  the  first  place,  as  far  as  they  could, 
for  the  preservation  of  order  on  the  entry  of  the 
royal  family  into  the  capital,  and  on  the  morning 
which  followed  this  event,  they  passed  a  decree  for 
virtually  suspending  the  authority  of  the  King,  and. 
detaining  him,  with  the  Queen  and  Dauphin,  in 
custody,  by  appointing  a  guard  to  each.  This  res¬ 
olution  was  dictated  by  quite  as  much  moderation 
as  could  have  been  expected  in  the  circumstances. 
The  royal  family  remained  in  the  same  state  of 
confinement  till  the  3d  of  September  following, 
when  the  new  Constitution  was  presented  to  the 
King  by  the  Assembly,  and  accepted  by  him,  on 
which  he  was  immediately  restored  to  liberty,  and 


202  True  Stories  from  History. 

the  exercise  of  his  civil  functions.  But  the  im¬ 
pression  made  upon  the  public  mind  by  his  at¬ 
tempted  flight,  and  the  issue,  was  never  obliterated, 
and  nothing,  perhaps,  in  the  early  course  of  the 
Revolution,  contributed  so  greatly  to  extinguish 
the  ancient  prejudices  of  the  people  in  favor  of- 
the  royal  person  and  dignity,  and  to  precipitate 
the  crisis  in  which  both  perished. 

On  the  3d  of  September,  the  Constitution  agreed 
upon  was  presented  to  the  King.  It  was  carried 
to  the  palace  by  a  deputation  of  sixty  of  the  mem¬ 
bers,  who  were  received  by  the  King,  while  the 
Queen,  the  Dauphin  and  his'  sister,  presented  them¬ 
selves  at  the  door  of  the  apartment.  After  express¬ 
ing,  in  general  terms,  his  attachment  to  the  national 
liberties,  and  his  confidence  in  the  loyalty  of  his 
people,  he  said  to  the  Deputies,  “There  are  my 
wife  and  my  children,  whose  sentiments  are  the 
same  as  my  own.”  The  Queen  felt  it  necessary  to 
confirm  this  assurance,  however  far  she  was  from 
partaking  in  the  feelings  of  hope  and  confidence 
which  it  seemed  to  imply. 


The  Capture,  and  Return.  203 

Ten  days  afterwards  the  King  wrote  to  the  As¬ 
sembly  that  he  was  willing  to  accept  the  Constitu¬ 
tion,  and  the  next  day,  accordingly,  he  proceeded 
to  their  Hall  to  give  his  public  assent  to  it,  with 
the  solemnities  becoming  so  important  an  act.  At 
the  hour  of  noon  a  discharge  of  cannon  announced 
the  approach  of  his  Majesty,  who,  having  entered 
the  Hall,  seated  himself  beside  the  President  of 
the  Assembly.  The  members,  meanwhile,  in  con¬ 
formity  with  a  resolution  which  had  been  passed  in 
the  earlier  part  of  the  day,  remained  in  their  places 
without  rising.  The  King  himself  rose,  when 
about  to  read  his  address,  but  on  perceiving  that 
no  one  else  followed  his  example,  he  resumed  his 
seat,  and  proceeded  to  speak  as  follows : — 

“  I  have  come,  gentlemen,  to  ratify  solemnly,  in 
this  place,  the  acceptance  of  the  Constitution  which 
I  have  already  declared.  Wherefore,  I  swear  to 
be  faithful  to  the  nation  and  to  the  law,  and  to 
employ  all  the  power  which  is  delegated  to  me,  in 
maintaining  the  Constitution,  and  causing  the  laws 
to  be  executed.  May  this  great  and  memorable 


204  True  Stories  from  History. 

epoch,  he  that  of  the  re-establishment  of  peace  and 
■union — the  pledge  of  the  happiness  of  the  people, 
and  the  prosperity  of  the  empire.” 

The  tone  and  look,  both  of  dignity  and  of  confi¬ 
dence,  with  which  these  words  were  spoken,  drew 
forth  the  plaudits  of  the  Assembly.  After  a  few 
words  of  reply  from  the  President,  his  Majesty 
signed  the  Constitution,  and  then  retiring  from  the 
Hall,  Avas  followed  by  the  whole  of  the  members, 
who  escorted  him  to  the  sound  of  military  music, 
as  far  as  the  door  of  the  palace. 

As  soon,  however,  as  he  had  escaped  from  the 
public  gaze,  the  monarch,  it  would  appear,  gave 
free  vent  to  the  expression  of  very  different  senti¬ 
ments  from  those  he  had  so  recently  manifested. 
Proceeding  immediately  to  the  apartment  of  the 
Queen,  who  had  also  been  present  in  the  Assem¬ 
bly,  he  threw  himself  on  a  chair,  and  while  the 
tears  gushed  from  his  eyes,  addressing  himself  to 
her  Majesty,  bewailed  in  the  bitterest  terms  what 
he  called  the  humiliation  she  had  seen  him  under¬ 
go.  The  Queen  could  not  console  him,  but  throw- 


The  Capture  and  Return.  205 

ing  herself  on  her  knees  at  his  feet,  clung  to  him, 
and  joined  in  his  grief  and  lamentations.  It  seemed 
to  both  that  the  manner  in  which  the  King  had 
be«i  treated  by  the  Assembly,  in  being  placed  on  a 
level  with  the  President,  and  received  without  any 
of  the  usual  marks  of  respect,  was  both  cruelly 
insulting  in  itself,  and  ominous  of  the  entire  over¬ 
throw,  at  no  distant  hour,  of  the  royal  author¬ 
ity. 

Since  such  had  been  the  demeanor  of  the  exist¬ 
ing  Assembly,  what  was  not  to  be  expected  from 
the  one  immediately  about  to  meet,  the  great  ma¬ 
jority  of  the  members  of  which  were  well  known 
to  be  of  much  more  violently  anti-monarchical 
principles  even  than  their  predecessors  !  The 
prospect  seemed  to  their  Majesties  one  of  deepest 
gloom.  Such  were  the  feelings  that  reigned  within 
the  palace.  Without  all  was  popular  triumph  and 
rejoicing.  Four  days  after  the  King’s  visit  to  the 
Assembly,  a  public  fete,  which  had  been  decreed 
by  that  body,  was  celebrated  in  Paris  in  honor  of 
-he  great  act, — the  completion,  as  it  were,  of  the 


20G  True  Stories  from  History. 

edifice  of  freedom, — wliicli  had  just- been  consum¬ 
mated.  The  Constitution  was  solemnly  proclaimed 
by  the  civic  authorities,  in  a  public  manner,  in 
several  places  in  the  capital.  In  the  evening  the 
city  was  brilliantly  illuminated,  and  nowhere  was 
there  seen  a  more  splendid  display  of  festoons  of 
light,  transparencies,  and  other  such  ornaments, 
than  along  the  front  of  the  Tuileries,  and  in  the 
garden  of  that  palace.  The  royal  family  drove  in 
their  carriage  through  the  streets,  and  to  the  differ¬ 
ent  public  places,  to  witness  the  rejoicings,  and 
were  in  general  received  by  the  people  with  respect 
and  demonstrations  of  attachment.  It  is  related, 
however,  by  Madame  de  Campan,  that  whenever 
the  cry  of  Vive  le  Roi  was  uttered  by  the  crowd 
around  the  royal  carriage,  a  man  who  had  stationed 
himself  by  its  side,  and  steadily  kept  his  place 
there,  immediately  called  out,  “  Ne  les  croyez  pas; 
Vive  la  Nation  /”  Trust  them  not ;  the  Nation  for¬ 
ever  !  It  has  been  remarked  that  the  general  sen¬ 
timent  was  most  correctly  expressed  by  a  trans¬ 
parency  which  a  shoemaker  of  the  Rue  St.  Honors 


The  Capture  and  Return.  207 


had  placed  oyer  the  door  of  his  shop,  exhibiting 
the  following  words : — 

“  Vive  le  Roi 
S’il  est  de  bonne  foi.” 

The  members  of  the  first  National  Assembly 
held  their  last  sitting  on  the  30th  of  September, 
the  King  having  on  that  occasion  again  presented 
himself  among  them,  and  read  an  address  full  of 
apparently  the  most  cordial  assurances  of  his  satis¬ 
faction  with  the  new  order  of  things.  The  next 
day  their  successors  met  in  the  same  Hall. 


VI. 


frmut  ani  impnMng  $mls. 

T  OUIS  XYI.  trembled  in  bis  palace.  He  could 
not  conceal  from  bimself  that  be  was  less  the 
king  than  tbe  captive  of  France,  and  that  bis  own 
life  and  that  of  tbe  Queen  and  tbeir  children  would 
be  sacrificed  whenever  reverse  or  peril  should 
come.  The  public  journals  and  tbe  clubs  de¬ 
nounced,  more  earnestly  than  ever,  tbe  Austrian 
influence  which  they  alleged  was  at  work,  and  of 
which  they  accused  the  Queen  of  being  the  pro¬ 
moter.  Discord  reigned  in  the  councils  of  the 
ministers,  and  everything  was  in  a  state  of  confu¬ 
sion.  Thus  they  passed  the  long  and  dreary 
months  of  the  remainder  of  that  year,  nor  did  they 
find  relief,  except  in  the  momentary  gleams  of 
hope  which  visited  them,  as  the  winter  passed, 
and  the  spring  wore  on.  They  were  guarded  in 


Evils  a^d  Perils. 


209 


the  palace  more  closely  than  ever  before.  Every¬ 
where,  at  the  outer  gates,  and  in  the  inner  cham¬ 
bers  and  passages,  sentinels  were  posted.  Even 
the  private  apartments  of  the  Queen  were  invaded, 
and  no  respect  was  paid  to  the  modest  decencies 
of  domestic  life.  The  vigilant  eyes  of  unfeeling 
sentinels  were  set  to  watch  the  royal  family  even 
in  the  retirement  of  their  sleeping  apartments  and 
around  the  sacred  retreats  of  domestic  privacy. 

Besides  all  these  sufferings  and  fears,  the  state 
of  the  city  was  such  as  to  awaken  the  most 
gloomy  and  terrible  apprehensions.  The  law  was 
powerless,  and  the  will  of  an  insane  mob  governed 
everywhere.  Assassination  and  murder  were 
committed  with  impunity,  and  tbe  most  horrible 
barbarities  were  exercised  upon  such  as  fell  under 
the  popular  suspicion  or  hate.  The  royal  family 
were  grossly  insulted  whenever  they  made  their 
appearance,  even  if  it  were  only  at  the  windows 
of  the  palace. 

The  King  had  refused  his  sanction  to  a  decree 

of  the  Assembly  for  the  persecution  of  the  priest- 
1 4 


210  True  Stories  from  History. 

hood,  and  this  aroused  the  mob  of  Paris  to  a  vio¬ 
lent  outrage.  They  made  an  assault  upon  the 
Tuileries,  after  he  had  retiredly illi  the  royal 
family  into  one  of  the  interior  apartments  which 
overlooked  the  garden  of  the  palace.  He  heard 
at  first  the  distant  murmur  and  thunder  of  the 
gathering  multitude,  and  soon  afterwards  the  cries 
of  his  frightened  servants,  who  were  flying  in  all 
directions.  The  King  confided  his  wife,  his  sis¬ 
ter  and  his  children  to  the  care  of  the  officers  of 
the  household,  who  surrounded  them,  and  went 
alone  in  the  direction  of  the  Hall  of  Council,  near 
which  the  attack  was  made.  When  the  King 
entered  this  apartment,  he  found  that  the  doors  of 
the  next  room,  the  Hall  of  the  nobles,  as  it  was 
called,  were  broken  in  by  the  blows  of  the  assail¬ 
ants.  Instead  of  retreating,  the  King  rushed  for¬ 
ward  towards  the  door,  through  the  broken  panels 
of  which  the  frantic  mob  thrust  at  him  with  iron- 
pointed  sticks  and  lances,  while  he  was  assailed 
with  furious  cries,  imprecations  and  menaces. 
Louis  ordered  his  attendants  to  open  the  doors, 


Evils  and  Perils. 


211 


exclaiming  in  a  firm  voice,  that  lie  could  have 
nothing  to  fear  in  the  midst  of  his  people. 

The  impetuosity  of  the  ringleaders  was  over¬ 
awed  by  his  firmness  and  self-composure,  and  by 
that  feeling  of  respect  for  the  sacred  person  of  the 
King  which  they  had  so  long  been  accustomed  to 
f 'el.  Several  officers  of  the  National  Guard, 
alarmed  by  the  report  of  his  Majesty’s  danger, 
had  hastened  to  join  the  brave  grenadiers  who 
were  in  attendance  upon  him,  and  thus  kept  the 
crowd  at  bay.  He  was  only  anxious  to  prevent 
the  people  from  entering  the  apartment  of  the 
royal  family,  regardless  of  his  own  danger.  While 
thus  exposed  to  the  weapons  which  threatened 
him,  he  beheld  his  sister,  Madame  Elizabeth,  en¬ 
deavoring  to  approach  him,  as  if  by  her  presence 
she  might  shield  him,  or  failing  in  that,  might  die 
with  him.  The  mob,  mistaking  her  for  the  Queen, 
rushed  towards  her,  and  were  about  to  kill  her, 
but  being  undeceived,  and  hearing  her  venerated 
name,  tl ie}r  dropped  their  arms.  “  Ah,  why  do 
you  undeceive  them  ?  ”  cried  the  Princess  sorrow- 


212  True  Stories  from  History. 

fully — “  let  them  suppose  I  am  the  Queen  Could 
I  die  in  her  place,  she  perhaps  might  he  saved,” 

The  assailants  pressing  round  the  King,  loudly 
demanded  that  he  would  sanction  the  decree 
against  the  priests.  At  each  new  invasion  of  the 
mob,  the  strength  of  the  King  and  the  small  num¬ 
ber  of  his  defenders  was  exhausted  in  the  re¬ 
newed  struggles  of  the  unwearied  crowd.  They 
climbed  up  by  the  balconies,  and  entered  by  the 
roof  and  windows,  while .  the  maddened  rabble 
below  shouted  impatiently  to  those  above  to  finish 
the  work.  At  one  time  there  was  a  report  that 
Louis  wras  assassinated,  and  the  people  outside 
looked  up  to  the  windows,  demanding  that  his 
head  should  be  thrown  down  to  them. 

One  of  the  crowd  thrust  towards  the  King  the 
bonnet  rouge ,  on  the  end  of  a  pike,  and  demanded 
that  he  should  put  it  on,  as.  a  sign  of  patriotism. 
With  a  smile  the  King  placed  it  on  his  head,  and 
then  there  arose  shouts  of  Vive  le  Roi!  Having 
thus  crowned  Louis  with  the  symbol  of  liberty, 
the  people  felt  that  they  were  conquerors,  and 


Evils  and  Perils.  213 

their  rage  was  thus,  for  the  time,  appeased.  Still 
they  demanded  the  sanction  of  the  decrees.  But 
Louis  firmly  refused  to  acquiesce.  lie  declared 
that  he  would  not  surrender  to  violence,  that  there 
was  no  time  for  deliberation,  and  that  so  sur¬ 
rounded,  he  could  not  possibly  deliberate  with 
freedom.  “Do  not  fear,  Sire,”  said  a  grenadier  of 
the  National  Guard  to  him.  “  My  friend,”  was 
the  King’s  repl}r,  taking  his  hand,  and  placing  it 
on  his  breast,  “place  your  hand  there,  and  see  if 
my  heart  beats  quicker  than  usual.”  This  action, 
and  his  unshaken  firmness  and  calm  self-reliance, 
was  seen  and  observed  by  the  crowd,  and  had  its 
effect  in  turning  the  tide  in  his  favor. 

While  Louis  was  thus  beset  by  the  multitude, 
and  was  resisting  their  rage  almost  single-handed, 
the  Queen,  who  was  more  hated  than  the  King, 
was  undergoing  similar  outrages  and  torments  in 
another  apartment  of  the  palace.  The  doors  of 
her  room  were  assailed  with  the  same  uproar  and 
violence  which  beset  the  Hall  where  the  King  met 
the  crowd.  But  this  party  was  composed  chiefly 


214  True  Stories  from  History. 

of  women,  assisted  by  some  men  whom  they  sum¬ 
moned  to  break  down  the  doors. 

Tbe  Queen  was  standing  with  her  two  children 
pressed  to  her  bosom,  and  listening  with  mortal 
fear  to  the  cries  of  the  assailants.  She  had  near 
her  no  one  but  M.  de  Lajard,  the  Minister  of  War, 
who  was  powerless  but  devoted,  a  few  ladies  of 
her  suite,  and  the  Princess  de  Lamballe,  that  friend 
who  was  endeared  to  her  by  many  memories  both 
of  happy  and  unhappy  hours.  As  the  multitude 
poured  into  the  apartment  of  the  Queen,  they 
found  her  with  her  daughter,  then  fourteen  years 
of  age,  pressed  closely  against  her  mother’s  bosom, 
as  though  she  would  shield  her  by  her  innocence, 
and  the  Dauphin,  a  beautiful  child  of  seven  years 
old,  seated  on  the  table  in  front  of  her.  The  feroc¬ 
ity  of  her  foes  was  softened  before  this  moving 
spectacle  of  weakness,  beauty,  and  childhood. 
They  could  not,  with  all  their  passions  of  hate  and 
revenge,  fail  to  feel  sensibility  and  pity  in  the 
presence  of  humiliated  greatness.  A  young  girl 
of  pleasing  appearance,  and  respectably  attired, 


Evils  and  Perils. 


215 


approached  the  Queen,  and  in  the  coarsest  terms 
bitterly  reviled  her  as  base  and  treacherous. 
Marie  Antoinette,  moved  by  the  gentleness  of  her 
face,  in  contrast  with  the  rage  and  bitterness  which 
she  manifested,  addressed  her  in  a  kind  and  sooth¬ 
ing  manner. 

“Why  do  you  hate  me?  Have  I  ever,  unknow¬ 
ingly,  done  you  any  injury,  or  in  any  way  offend¬ 
ed  you?” 

“  No,  not  to  me,”  replied  the  young  girl.  “  But 
you  are  the  one  who  causes  all  the  misery  and  suf¬ 
fering  of  the  people.” 

“Poor  child,”  replied  the  Queen.  “You  have 
been  deceived  by  the  accusations  of  others.  What 
would  it  advance  me  to  make  the  people  miser¬ 
able  ?  I  am  the  wife  of  your  King,  and  the  mother 
•of  the  Dauphin.  By  all  the  affections  of  my  heart, 
as  a  wife  and  mother,  I  am  a  Frenchwoman.  I 
shall  never  more  see  my  own  country.  I  can  only 
be  happy  or  unhappy  in  France.  I  was  happy 
when  I  had  your  love.” 

These  gentle  reproaches  melted  the  heart  of  the 


216  True  Stories  from  History 

girl,  and  she  burst  into  tears.  Begging  the  pardon 
of  the  Queen,  she  said  to  her,  “  I  did  not  know 
you  before,  but  I  see  that  you  arc  good.” 

When  the  Assembly  heard  of  the  assault  upon 
the  King  in  his  palace,  they  sent  a  deputation  of 
twenty-four  members  to  put  a  stop  to  the  outrage, 
and  protect  the  royal  family.  But  the  eloquence 
which  is  so  powerful  to  excite  the  masses,  is  pow¬ 
erless  to  check  them,  and  their  words  and  remon¬ 
strances  were  lost  in  the  confused  noise  of  the 
assailants,  and  thus  for  five  long  hours  the  King 
and  his  household  were  exposed  to  the  insults  and 
rage  of  the  unfeeling  mob.  Forty  thousand  per¬ 
sons  were  collected,  among  whom  were  many 
women  from  the  faubourgs,  and  in  the  wildest  ex¬ 
cesses  of  rage,  and  obscenity,  and  drunkenness, 
they  surrounded  the  Hall  of  the  Assembly,  and 
thronged  in  the  gardens  and  apartments  of  the 
Tuileries.  At  length,  through  the  exertions  of  the 
National  Guards,  and  of  the  president  and  mem¬ 
bers  of  the  Assembly,  the  palace  was  cleared,  and 
the  royal  family  left  to  such  quiet  and  repose  as 


Evils  and  Perils.  217 

might  follow  a  scene  of  such  lawless  outrage  and 
terrible  clanger.  The  events  of  this  awful  time  had 
taught  Louis  that  there  was  no  safety  for  them, 
and  no  protection  against  the  fury  of  the  excited 
populace.  The  most  gloomy  apprehensions  and 
fears  filled  their  bosoms,  as  they  looked  forward  to 
the  future.  They  could  not  forecast  coming 
events,  nor  penetrate  the  dark  and  still  darkening 
cloud  which  hung  in  deepest  gloom  over  the 
prospect. 

These  scenes  occurred  on  the  20th  of  June, 
1792.  The  departments  were  preparing  to  send  to 
the  capital  twenty  thousand  troops,  in  obedience  to 
the  order  of  the  Assembly.  Among  these  troops 
was  a  body  of  twelve  or  fifteen  hundred  men, 
known  as  the  Marseillais,  who -were  summoned  up 
from  the  south,  at  the  instigation  of  the  Girondists, 
to  rekindle  the  revolutionary  fires  which  seemed  to 
be  burning  low  in  Paris.  These  men,  rendered 
frantic  by  the  eloquence  of  the  provincial  clubs, 
and  by  the  applauses  of  the  people,  were  every¬ 
where  received  with  applause,  feted  and  overcome 


218  True  Stories  from  History. 


bj  enthusiasm  and  wine  at  the  patriotic  banquets 
which  greeted  them  in  constant  succession  on  their 
way.  The  secret  motive  which  brought  them  to 
Paris  was  to  intimidate  the  National  Guard,  to 
revive  the  energy  of  the  faubourgs,  and  by  their 
enthusiasm  and  reckless  courage,  to  control  the 
military  forces  then  gathered  in  the  capital. 

The  famous  Marsellaise  Hymn,  -written  and  com¬ 
posed  by  a  young  officer  of  artillery  in  the  garri¬ 
son  at  Strasbourg,  named  Eouget  de  Lisle,  was 
chanted  by  this  band,  along  their  march,  and  as 
they  approached  the  capital.  Never,  during  all 
the  revolution,  was  enthusiasm  at  greater  height, 
or  the  idea  of  revolution  more  palpably  embodied 
than  when  the  populace  of  Paris,  men,  women, 
and  children,  in  a  *rast  multitude,  received  this 
horde  with  loud  and  impassioned  greetings. 

THE  MARSEILLAISE. 

I. 

Allons,  enfants  de  la  patrie, 

Le  jour  de  gloire  est  arrive ! 

Contre  nous,  de  la  tyrannie 
L’etendart  sanglant  eat  leve. 


The  Marseillaise. 


219 


Entendez-vous  dans  ces  campagnes 
Mugir  ces  feroces  soldats  ! 

IIs  viennent  jusque  dans  vos  bras 
Egorger  vos  fils  et  vos  compagnes ! 

Aux  arrnes,  citoyens  !  formez  vos  bataillcns  ! 
Marchons !  qu’un  sang  impur  abreuve  nos  sillonsl 

II. 

Que  vent  cette  horde  d’esclaves, 

De  traitres,  de  rois  conjures? 

Pour  qui  ces  ignobles  entraves 
Ces  fers  des  longtemps  prepares  ? 

Frangais,  pour  vous  ah  !  quel  outrage, 
Quels  transports  il  doit  exciter  ? 

C’est  vous  qu’on  ose  mediter 
De  rendre  a  l’antique  esclavage : 

Aux  armea,  &c. 

III. 

Quoi !  ces  cohortes  etrangeres 
Feraient  la  loi  dans  nos  foyers  ? 

Quoi!  ces  phalanges  mereenaires 
Terrasseraient  nos  peres  guerriers? 

Grand  Dieu  !  par  des  mains  enchai riles, 
Nos  fronts  sous  le  joug  se  ploieraient ; 

De  vils  despotes  deviendraient 
Les  maitres  de  nos  destinees. 

Aux  armes,  <fcc. 

IV. 

Tremblez,  tyrans !  et  vous,  perfides 
L’opprobre  de  tous  les  partis ! 

Tremblez,  vos  projets  parricides 
Tent  enfin  recevoir  leur  prixl 


220  True  Stories  from  History 


Tout  est  soldat  pour  vous  combattre : 

S’ils  tombeut  nos  jennes  lieros, 

La  France  en  produit  des  nouveaux, 

Centre  vous  tous  prets  a  se  battre. 

Aux  arnaes,  <fcc. 

Y. 

Franfais,  en  guerriers  magnanimes, 

Porter  ou  retenez  vos  coups  ; 

Epargnes  ces  tristes  victimes 
A  regret  s’armant  contre  vous. 

Mais  ces  despotes  sanguinaires, 

Vais  les  complices  de  Bouille, 

Tous  ces  tigres  sans  pitie, 

Dcchirent  le  sein  de  leur  mere. 

Aux  armes,  &c. 

VI. 

Amour  sacre  de  la  patrie, 

Conduis,  soutiens  nos  bras  vengeurs  1 
Liberte,  liberte  cherie, 

Combats  avec  tes  defenseurs ! 

Sous  nos  drapeaux  que  la  Victoire 
Accoure  a  tes  males  accents  ; 

Que  tes  ennemis  expirants 
Yoient  ton  triomphe  et  notre  gloire! 

Aux  armes,  eitoyens  !  formez  vos  battaillons  ! 
Marclions!  qu’uu  sang  impur  abreuve  nos  sillons! 


Lamartine,  in  his  History  of  the  Girondists,  says 
that  these  words  were  sung  in  notes  alternately 
flat  and  sharp,  which  seemed  to  come  from  the 


The  Marseillaise. 


221 


breast  with  sullen  mutterings  of  national  anger, 
and  then  with  the  joy  of  victory.  They  had 
something  as  solemn  as  death,  but  as  serene  as 
the  undying  confidence  of  patriotism.  It  seemed 
a  recovered  echo  of  Thermopylae — it  was  heroism 
sung.  There  was  heard  the  regular  footfall  of 
thousands  of  men  walking  together  to  defend  the 
frontiers  over  the  resounding  soil  of  their  country, 
the  plaintive  notes  of  women,  the  wailing  of  chil¬ 
dren,  the  neighing  of  horses,  the  hissing  of  flames 
as  they  devoured  palaces  and  huts.  The  notes  of 
this  air  rustled  like  a  flag  dipped  in  gore,  still 
reeking  in  the  battle-plain.  It  made  one  tremble 
— but  it  was  the  shudder  of  intrepidity  which 
passed  over  the  heart  and  gave  an  impulse, — re¬ 
doubled  strength — veiled  death.  It  was  the  “  fire¬ 
water”  of  the  Kevolution,  which  instilled  into  the 
senses  and  the  soul  of  the  people  the  intoxication 
of  battle.  There  are  times  when  all  people  find 
thus  gushing  into  their  national  mind  accents 
which  no  man  hath  written  down,  and  which  all 
the  world  feels.  All  the  senses  desire  to  present 


222  True  Stories  from  History. 

their  tribute  to  patriotism,  and  eventually  to  en¬ 
courage  each  other.  The  foot  advances — gesture 
animates — the  voice  intoxicates  the  ear — the  ear 
shakes  the  heart.  The  whole  heart  is  inspired 
like  an  instrument  of  enthusiasm.  Art  becomes 
divine  ;  dancing,  heroic  ;  music,  martial ;  poetry, 
popular.  The  hymn  which  was  at  that  moment 
in  all  mouths  will  never  perish.  It  is  not  profaned 
on  common  occasions.  Like  those  sacred  banners, 
suspended  from  the  roofs  of  holy  edifices,  and 
which  are  only  allowed  to  leave  them  on  certain 
days,  the  French  keep  the  national  song  as  an 
extreme  arm  for  the  great  necessities  of  the 
country.  The  Marsellaise  preserves  notes  of  the 
song  of  glory  and  the  shriek  of  death ;  glorious  as 
the  one,  funereal  like  the  other,  it  assures  the 
country,  whilst  it  makes  the  citizen  turn  pale. 


VII. 


%  oms  Sixteenth. — Imprisonment  anir  (tarttion. 

T  N  the  midst  of  the  stormy  scenes  which  Paris 
was  witnessing,  an  attempt  was  made  to  recon¬ 
cile  all  parties,  and  thus  put  an  end  to  anarchy,  by 
Lamourette,  the  bishop  of  Lyons.  lie  was  a  mem¬ 
ber  of  the  Assembly,  and  had  won  the  veneration 
of  that  body  by  his  charity  and  moderation.  Gain¬ 
ing  the  tribune,  he  spohe  as  follows: — “Of  all  the 
measures  proposed  for  stopping  the  divisions  which 
tear  us  to  pieces,  one  is  forgotten  which  would  of 
itself  suffice  to  restore  order  to  the  empire,  and 
safety  to  the  nation.  It  is  the  union  of  all  its  chil¬ 
dren  in  one  thought,  the  combination  of  all  the 
members  of  this  Assembly,  an  irresistible  example 
which  would  infallibly  reconcile  all  citizens.  And 
what  is  there  to  oppose  this?  It  is  only  virtue 


224  True  Stories  from  History. 

and  crime  that  are  irreconcilable.  Honest  men 
have  the  common  ground  of  patriotism  and  honor 
on  which  they  can  always  meet.  What  separates 
ns?  jealousies,  suspicions  of  one  another.  Let  us 
choke  these  in  a  patriotic  embrace,  and  in  an  unan¬ 
imous  oath.  Let  us  crush,  by  one  common  exe¬ 
cration,  the  republic  and  the  two  chambers.” 

This  bold  and  earnest  summons  to  unity  was 
heard  by  the  whole  Assembly.  Every  member 
rose  in  his  place,  and  uttered  the  oath.  Enthusi- 

f 

astic  cries  resounded  throughout  the  Hall,  and  men 
of  every  faction  and  shade  of  opinion  met  and  em¬ 
braced.  The  people  soon  learned  that  the  speech 
of  an  honest  man  had  put  an  end  to  divisions,  con¬ 
founded  parties,  and  produced  unanimity.  A  mes¬ 
sage  was  sent  to  the  King,  who  hastened  to  the 
Hall  of  the  Assembly,  and  was  received  with 
enthusiasm.  For  the  moment  hope  revived  in  his 
breast.  “  I  am  one  with  you,”  said  Louis,  in  a  voice 
broken  with  tears  of  joy;  “our  union  will  save 
France.”  Great  were  the  rejoicings  in  the  palace 
among  the  royal  family.  They  wept  tears  of  joy. 


Imprisonment  and  Execution.  225 

They  embraced  one  another  with  such  hopes  for 
the  future  as  had  not  been  indulged  for  many  a 
day  that  was  gone.  But,  alas,  even  this  hope  and 
joy  could  not  endure.  That  same  evening  violent 
discussions  again  disturbed  the  Assembly,  and  the 
spirit  of  dissension  once  more  returned  to  brood 
over  that  Hall  from  which  the  good  bishop’s  voice 
had  driven  it  for  the  moment. 

On  the  14th  of  July,  the  day  of  the  Federation, 
there  was  a  magnificent  fete  in  the  Champ  de  Mars, 
which  the  King  attended,  accompanied  by  the 
Queen,  and  their  children,  and  escorted  by  the 
wavering  troops.  Here  he  was  to  take  the  oath 
of  fidelity  to  the  Constitution.  The  Queen  trem¬ 
bled  for  the  life  of  the  King  as  he  walked  through 
the  crowd  on  his  way  to  the  altar.  Every  moment 
was  to  her  an  age  of  torment.  Thousands  of  bay¬ 
onets  and  pikes  bristled  around  him,  as  she  fol¬ 
lowed  him  with  her  eyes,  thinking  every  moment 
that  she  should  see  him  murdered  in  her  presence. 
After  Louis  had  taken  the  civic  oath,  the  royal  fam¬ 
ily  returned  to  the  Tuilerics  and  never  again  ap~ 


226  True  Stories  from  History, 


peared  in  the  streets  until  they  were  borne  to 
execution. 

The  tide  of  Revolution  now  gathered  force  every 
hour.  Everywhere  was  heard  the  sullen  murmur¬ 
ing  which  forebodes  the  storm.  Preparations  of 
attack  and  defence  were  made  secretly  at  the  Tuil- 
eries,  and  the  private  apartments  of  the  King  were 
filled  with  nobles  and  returned  emigrants.  The 
sections  of  the  city,  the  clubs,  and  the  departments, 
demanded  the  dethronement  of  the  King.  Insults 
and  menaces,  assassinations  and  massacres,  prevail¬ 
ing  everywhere,  spread  consternation  throughout 
the  capital,  and  kept  the  inmates  of  the  palace  in 
the  agony  of  mortal  fear. 

On  the  night  of  the  9th  of  August,  the  tocsin 
was  sounded  in  many  belfries  of  distant  quarters 
of  the  city,  conveying  terror  and  death  to  those 
who  were  watching,  weeping  and  praying  over  the 
dangers  to  which  they  were  exposed.  The  Queen 
and  Madame  Elizabeth  ascended  to  the  upper  bal¬ 
conies  of  the  Tuileries,  and  there  listened  to  the 
confused  sounds  of  the  streets  below.  At  mid 


Imprisonment  and  Execution.  227 

night  the  bells  gave  out  the  signals  for  the  gather¬ 
ing,  and  the  Swiss  Guard  arranged  themselves  in 
line  of  battle,  to  protect  the  royal  family.  The 
assailants  were  slow  in  collecting,  and  it  was  sup¬ 
posed  that  their  plans  had  failed.  With  this  hope 
the  Queen  and  Madame  Elizabeth  sought  a  small 
apartment  overlooking  the  courtyard,  where  they 
threw  themselves  upon  couches,  with  their  clothes 
on,  for  repose.  The  King  retired  to  a  private 
apartment  with  the  Abbe  Hebert,  his  confessor,  to 
prepare  himself  by  the  aids  and  consolations  of 
religion,  for  the  death  which  menaced  him  so  near¬ 
ly.  Marie  Antoinette  and  Madame  Elizabeth  in 
vain  sought  forgetfulness  of  danger  in  sleep.  The 
confused  sounds  of  the  gathering  multitude  pene¬ 
trated  their  retreat.  They  heard  the  report  of  a 
gun,  and  believing  it  the  beginning  of  the  slaugh¬ 
ter,  they  hastened  to  join  the  King. 

During  the  long  hours  of  the  night,  and  those 
that  followed  the  dawn  of  day,  the  Queen  and  the 
Princess  Elizabeth  went  continually  back  and  forth 
from  the  apartment  of  the  King  to  that  of  the 


228  True  Stories  from  History. 

royal  children,  and  from  tlience  to  the  Hall  of 
Council  where  the  ministers  were  sittting.  With 
more  than  human  effort  they  concealed  their  ago¬ 
ny,  and  repressed  their  tears,  as  they  passed  in  and 
out  among  their  defenders,  and  by  their  apparent 
calmness,  by  their  smiles  and  encouraging  words, 
they  inspired  confidence  where  it  was  nearly  lost. 
A  more  eloquent  appeal  to  sympathy,  compassion, 
and  courage,  could  not  be  made  than  that  of  those 
two  devoted  and  lovely  women,  the  one  a  queen 
and  mother,  trembling  at  once  for  her  husband 
and  children,  the  other  a  fond  sister,  trembling  for 
the  life  of  a  brother,  and  each  insensible  to  danger 
for  herself.  Marie  Antoinette  exhibited  a  courage 
and  elevation  of  soul,  as  well  as  a  tenderness  and 
depth  of  affection  which  belonged  to  her  as  a 
queen,  and  mother,  and  wife.  She  feared,  she 
hoped,  she  despaired,  and  she  reassured  herself 
successively,  whilst  yet  she  hoped  without  excess, 
and  was  discouraged  without  being  prostrated. 
She  wept,  not  from  weakness,  but  from  affection ; 
she  mourned,  but  over  her  children ;  she  veiled 


Imprisonment  and  Execution.  229 


her  anguish  and  her  grief  beneath  the  respect  she 
owed  to  herself,  to  the  blood  of  her  mother,  Maria 
Theresa,  and  to  the  people  by  whom  she  was  sum¬ 
moned.  Such  was  Marie  Antoinette  during  the 
four-and-twenty  hours  replete  with  so  many  crises 
that  must  have  overpowered  any  but  herself.  She 
was,  like  all  of  her  sex,  a  woman  inspired  more  by 
nature  than  by  policy ;  better  calculated  to  bear 
peril  and  misfortune  with  heroism  than  to  guide 
and  advise  the  King.  Her  place  was  rather  in 
action  than  in  the  council-chamber. 

The  popular  forces,  composed  of  the  Federes 
from  Marseilles  and  Bretagne,  and  numerous  bands 
of  citizens  from  the  faubourgs,  began  to  move 
slowly  towards  the  Tuilcries  from  the  different 
points  -where  they  had  assembled,  about  three 
o’clock  in  the  morning.  The  Marseillese  were  the 
first  wjio  arrived,  and  they  immediately  formed  in 
order  for  battle  in  the  Place  du  Carrousel,  directly 
in  front  of  the  Palace.  Here  they  were  soon  joined 
by  auxiliary  troops,  who  drew  up  behind  them. 
Others  took  up  their  stations  in  the  garden,  from 


230  True  Stories  from  History. 

which  the  National  Guards  and  the  Gendarmes, 
who  had  been  posted  there,  retired  amid  cries  of 
Vive  le  Nation ,  and  falling  back  ranged  themselves 
on  the  side  of  the  assailants. 

It  was  now  'Six  o’clock  in  the  morning.  Imme¬ 
diately  before  this,  the  King,  accompanied  by  the 
Queen  and  his  sister,  had  come  down  to  the  garden 
to  review  the  troops,  and  had  seen  enough  to  sat¬ 
isfy  him  of  the  little  dependence  to  be  placed  in 
such  defenders.  Some  of  the  artillery  company, 
approaching  Louis,  shook  their  fists  in  his  face, 
and  insulted  him  by  the  grossest  language. 

While  matters  were  in  this  state,  Dejoly,  the 
Minister  of  Justice,  presented  himself  in  the  Assem¬ 
bly,  and  entreated  that  some  measures  should  be 
adopted  for  the  protection  of  the  King,  but  the 
Assembly  took  but  little  notice  of  the  request. 
Dejoly  then  returned  to  the  Tuileries,  where  he 
found  the  royal  family  assembled  in  the  King’s 
closet.  Here  they .  all  remained  till  near  eight 
o’clock,  when  a  municipal  officer  presented  him¬ 
self,  and  announced  that  forces  were  moving  in 


Imprisonment  and  Execution.  231 

columns  upon  the  palace  from  all  quarters.  Im¬ 
mediately  after,  M.  Eoederer  entered,  and  stated 
that  the  attack  was  about  to  begin,  that  the  greater 
part  of  the  National  Guards  had  joined  the  people, 
and  that  the  forces  still  remaining  steady  were  in¬ 
sufficient  to  defend  the  palace.  He  urged  his 
V  Majesty,  therefore,  that  without  an  instant’s  delay 
he  should  take  the  only  step  which  could  save 
himself  and  his  family  from  being  massacred,  and 
seek  refuge  with  the  Queen  and  children  in  the 
National  Assembly.  The  Queen  at  first  shrunk 
indignantly  from  this  humiliation.  She  would 
rather,  she  exclaimed,  be  nailed  to  the  walls  of 
the  palace;  and  offering  arms  to  the  King,  she  im¬ 
plored  him  to  put  himself  at  the  head  of  his 
friends,  and  at  last,  if  it  must  be  so,  to  lose  his 
crown  and  his  life  together.  But  on  being  re¬ 
minded  of  her  children,  whose  only  chance  of  safety 
she  was  destroying,  she  said,  heaving  a  profound 
sigh,  “  It  is  the  last  sacrifice — let  it  be  made,”  and 
offered  no  further  resistance. 

The  whole  party,  consisting  of  the  royal  family. 


232  True  Stories  from  History, 

the  ministers,  and  several  gentlemen  belonging  to 
the  Court,  then  left  the  palace  by  the  gate  opening 
on  the  garden,  and  proceeded  directly  across  the 
parterre  to  the  Hall  of  the  Assembly.  They  were 
escorted  by  a  battalion  composed  of  Swiss,  and 
grenadiers  of  the  National  Guard,  who,  forming 
into  a  hollow  square  around  them,  conducted  them 
in  safety,  and  without  encountering  interruption, 
till  they  arrived  at  the  steps  leading  up  to  the  Ter¬ 
race  des  Feuillans.  Here  was  assembled  a  formid¬ 
able  mob,  who  declared,  in  the  most  furious  lan¬ 
guage,  their  determination  to  prevent  them  from 
advancing  further.  It  was  in  vain  that  M.  Boe- 
derer  begged  them  to  respect  the  Constitution  and 

the  laws.  His  voice  was  drowned  in  their  tumult- 

• 

nous  clamor  and  menaces,  which  were  directed 
against  the  Queen  especially,  with  fiendish  vehem¬ 
ence.  In  the  meantime,  hov.rever,  the  Assembly 
had  sent  a  deputation  to  meet  them.  One  of  their 
number  approached  Eocher,  the  leader  of  the  mob, 
and  addressed  him  earnestly  in  the  name  of  the 
Assembly,  and  succeeded  in  making  an  impression 


Imprisonment  and  Execution.  233 

upon  liim  by  this  appeal.  Placing  himself  before 
the  King,  Rocher  commanded  his  followers  to 
make  way,  and  lifting  up  the  young  Dauphin,  and 
seating  him  on  his  'shoulders,  he  entered  the  As¬ 
sembly  with  them,  and  placed  the  boy  on  the  table 
before  the  President.  The  royal  family  were  then 
placed  in  the  seats  reserved  for  the  reporters,  situ¬ 
ated  behind  the  President’s  chair. 

The  departure  of  the  King  was  followed  at  the 
palace  by  scenes  of  the  most  revolting  description. 
About  nine  o’clock,  the  Marseillese  and  Bretons 
advanced  to  the  charge,  and  forced  their  way,  with 
irresistible  impetuosity,  into  the  Court  of  the 
Princes,  the  largest  of  the  several  courts  into  which 
the  space  immediately  before  the  Tuileries  was 
divided.  It  would  appear  that  the  Swiss,  now 
almost  the  only  troops  who  remained  to  defend  the 
palace,  manifested  some  disposition  to  capitulate 
with  their  assailants,  feeling  doubtless  that  there 
hardly  remained  any  chance  of  making  a  success¬ 
ful  resistance  to  the  midtitude  by  which  the 
place  was  now  attacked  on  all  sides.  But  the 


234  True  Stories  from  History. 

capitulation  was  tlie  next  moment  suddenly  in¬ 
terrupted  by  some  persons  of  the  mob,  who  ad¬ 
vanced  to  the  foot  of  the  staircase,  pulled  down 
several  of  the  Swiss  who:  were  standing  upon  the 
steps,  and  took  from  them  their  arms,  amidst  shouts 
of  laughter.  The  crowd  thus  excited,  immediately 
rushed  forward,  and  the  disarmed  captives  were 
instantly  massacred. 

On  this  the  Swiss,  both  at  the  windows  and  on 
the  staircase,  burning  to  avenge  their  companions, 
put  their  muskets  to  their  shoulders,  and  showered 
down  a  thick  and  fearfully- destructive  fire  on  the 
besiegers  in  the  court  and  on  the  stairs.  The  Mar- 
seillese,  and  the  rest  of  the  multitude  wrho  had 
been  driven  back  by  this  assault  of  the  Swiss,  im¬ 
mediately  returned  to  their  ground,  while  numer¬ 
ous  bands  of  others  had  penetrated  at  the  same 
time  from  various  quarters  into  the  garden,  and 
commenced  a  vigorous  attack  upon  that  point  of 
the  palace.  Thus  beleaguered  on  every  side,  and 
played  upon  by  cannon  planted  at  the  ends  of  the 
adjacent  streets,  it  was  impossible  that  the  palace 


Imprisonment  and  Execution.  235 

could  have  held  out  long,  even  had  its  defenders 
been  much  more  numerous,  and  much  better  armed 
than  they  were.  Before  the  assailants  had  gained 
the  interior,  several  hundred  gentlemen  who  were 
posted  in  the  different  apartments,  made  their 
escape  through  the  gallery  of  the  Louvre.  About 
eight  hundred  Swiss  were  now  the  only  troops 
remaining  in  the  palace.  These  brave  men  drew 
up  immediately  before  the  great  staircase,  to  resist, 
as  long  as  they  could,  the  entrance  of  the  mob. 
But  they  were  soon  overpowered  by  the  immense 
number  of  their  assailants,  who  slew  nearly  all  of 
them,  and  then  poured  into  the  palace,  opposed  by 
no  other  impediment  than  the  heaped  up  bodies  of 
the  slaughter. 

A  general  massacre  now  commenced  of  the  nu¬ 
merous.  servants  and  other  inmates  of  the  royal 
dwelling,  which  lasted  from  noon  till  two  o’clock. 
They  slew,  in  the  rooms,  on  the  roofs,  aud  in  the 
cellars,  the  Swiss  who  were  found  either  with  or 
without  arms,  the  chevaliers,  the  valets,  and  all 
who  inhabited  the  building.  In  the  midst  of  this 


236  True  Stories  from  History. 

promiscuous  slaughter,  however,  the  women  were 
spared.  Terrible  scenes  were  witnessed  by  them, 
but  they  were  protected.  The  whole  number  of 
Swiss  who  perished  in  this  massacre  was  not  far 
from  eight  hundred.  By  two  o’clock  the  fury  of 
the  murderers  had  spent  itself,  and  the  place  of 
their  ravages  was  filled  with  the  dead  bodies  of 
those  who  had  thus  miserably  perished. 

Daring  the  whole  of  this  day  of  terror  the  As¬ 
sembly  had  continued  sitting.  The  King  and 
Queen  with  their  children,  and  Madame  Elizabeth 
and  the  Princess  Lamballe,  remained  in  the  loge  of 
the  reporters  till  a  late  hour  of  the  night,  and  then 
found  what  repose  they  could  in  an  adjacent  com¬ 
mittee-room,  from  which  they  repaired  to  the  Hall 
of  the  Assembly  early  the  next  morning,  where 
they  were  forced  "to  listen  to  the  debates,  some  of 
which  were  exceedingly  insolent  and  insulting 
both  to  the  King  and  Queen.  Several  decrees 
were  passed  in  reference  to  the  future  residence 
and  custody  of  the  royal  family,  and  it  was  finally 
determined  that  they  should  be  sent  to  the  Tem- 


Imprisonment  and  Execution.  237 

pie,  and  be  detained  tliere,  under  a  guard  of 
twenty  men.  Accordingly,  the  King  and  his 
family  were  transferred  to  the  prison  thus  ap¬ 
pointed  for  them,  by  the  sovereign  municipality, 
being  conveyed  thither  in  two  carriages  through 
the  thronged  streets,  and  by  the  most  public 
thoroughfares  of  the  city. 

In  the  meantime  the  allied  army  was  approach¬ 
ing  the  city,  and  apprehensions  of  the  vengeance 
that  would  be  taken  upon  them,  filled  the  minds 
of  the  populace.  There  was  no  longer  safety  for 
those  who  favored  the  cause  of  royalty.  The 
prisons  were  crowded  with  victims  who  were  sus¬ 
pected  of  friendliness  to  the  King  and  his  party, 
and  murder  and  assassination  were  committed 
with  the  most  reckless  disregard  of  all  law  and  all 
humanity,  and  in  the  face  of  open  day.  The  furi¬ 
ous  mob  could  not  wait  for  the  slower  process  of 
trial,  but  broke  into  the  prisons,  dragged  forth 
their  victims  and  slew  them  without  mercy.  The 
streets  of  Paris  again  flowed  with  blood,  and  ven¬ 
geance  triumphed  over  innocence  and  youth — 


238  True  Stories  from  History. 

oyer  helpless  age  and  feeble  womanhood.  Many 
thousands  perished,  and  the  cry  of  their  blood 
went  up  to  heaven. 

For  several  weeks  the  time  and  attention  of  the 
Assembly  were  occupied  in  the  trial  of  the  King. 
Many  stormy  debates  took  place,  and  many  gratui¬ 
tous  insults  were  offered  to  Louis,  which  were  re¬ 
ceived  and  borne  by  him  with  the  meekness  of  a 
saint  and  the  endurance  of  a  martyr.  When  first 
arraigned,  some  of  the  more  violent  demanded 
that  judgment  should  be  passed  immediately,  and 
enforced  their  proposition  both  by  speeches  and 
by  the  most  furious  and  affrighting  outcries. 
The  discussion,  however,  was  continued  for  several 
days ;  nor  was  it  till  the  15th  of  January  that  a 
vote  was  taken  on  the  question  of  the  King’s 
guilt.  There  were  six  hundred  and  ninety-three 
members  present  in  the  Assembly,  and  they  all 
voted  that  he  was  guilty.  Two  days  after,  the 
votes  were  taken  as  to  the  punishment  to  be  in¬ 
flicted  on  the  condemned  monarch.  There  were 
seven  hundred  and  twenty-one  members  present, 


Imprisonment  and  Execution.  239 


and  of  these  three  hundred  and  sixty-one  voted 
for  death  simply :  but  twenty -six  others  also  gave 
their  suffrages  in  favor  of  the  same  punishment, 
only  demanding  further  consideration  of  the  ques¬ 
tion  of  deferring  the  execution  of  the  sentence. 
The  remaining  members  voted  variously  for  death 
after  a  certain  time — for  confinement  during  life 
in  irons — or  for  banishment. 

Attempts  were  made  to  save  the  unfortunate 
Louis  even  after  the  sentence  of  death  had  been 
declared  against  him.  Ilis  counsel  demanded  an 
appeal  to  the  people,  but  this  demand  -was  re¬ 
jected.  It  was  moved,  also,  to  delay  the  execu¬ 
tion  of  the  sentence,  and  the  proposal  gave  rise  to 
a  violent  discussion,  but  was  decided  against  by  a 
large  majority  of  the  Assembly.  Louis  himself 
addressed  a  written  request  to  the  Assembly  that 
they  would  allow  him  three  days  to  prepare  for 
death,  but  his  petition  was  refused,  and  he  was 
told  that  his  execution  would  take  place  within 
four-and-twenty  hours. 

Nothing  now  remained  for  Louis  but  such  prep* 


240  True  Stories  from  History. 

aration  for  the  last  scene  of  all  Ms  agony  as  lie 
might  make,  and  with  the  permission  of  the  As¬ 
sembly,  he  sent  for  the  Abbe  de  Firmont,  whom 
he  had  known  in  former  days,  and  for  whom  he 
felt  a  sacred  friendship.  On  his  arrival  the  King 
led  him  to  his  chamber  in  the  Tower,  in  order 
that  the  interview  might  be  without  witnesses. 
The  priest  fell  at  the  King’s  feet  and  burst  into 
tears,  nor  could  the  latter  refrain  from  weeping. 
“  Pardon  me,”  said  he,  “  this  momentary  weak¬ 
ness.  I  have  so  long  lived  amongst  enemies,  that 
habit  has  rendered  me  indifferent  to  their  hatred, 
and  my  heart  has  been  closed  against  all  senti¬ 
ments  of  tenderness.  But  the  sight  of  a  faithful 
friend  restores  me  my  sensibility  which  I  be¬ 
lieved  dead,  and  moves  me  to  tears  in  spite  of  my¬ 
self.”  He  then  read  his  will  to  the  Abbe,  and  a 
long  and  tender,  but  calm  conversation  ensued. 
He  inquired  after  his  friends,  and  rejoiced  or 
lamented  for  them,  as  their  fate  deserved.  He 
then  jemployed  the  time  that  remained  till  his  last 
interview  with  his  family  in  offices  of  devotion. 


Imprisonment  and  Execution.  241 

That  last  interview,  it  was  arranged,  was  to  take 
place  in  the  salle  d  manger ,  which  communicated 
by  a  glass-door  with  the  apartment  of  the  commis¬ 
sioner,  who  could  thus  keep  his  royal  captive  in 
sight.  There  the  King  awaited  the  interview. 
The  door  opened,  and  Marie  Antoinette  entered, 
leading  the  Dauphin  by  the  hand,  and  threw  her¬ 
self  upon  his  neck.  Madame  Elizabeth  followed 
with  the  Princess  royal.  The  King  seated  him¬ 
self  with  his  wife  and  sister  on  cither  side  of  him, 
and  his  children  clinging  to  his  neck.  Thus 
grouped,  with  their  arms  encircling  him,  and  their 
faces  hidden  on  his  breast,  they  presented  such  a 
spectacle  of  anguished  a  unction  and  despair  as  the 
human  eye  seldom  looks  upon.  More  than  half 
an  hour  went  by,  and  nothing  was  heard  save  low 
murmurs  of  love,  and  wailings  of  lamentation,  in 
which  the  voices  of  father,  and  wife,  and  sister, 
and  children,  mingled  in  one  common  sorrow,  and 
at  intervals  swelled  up  into  such  piercing  cries  of 
shrill  grief  as  pierced  the  massive  walls  of  the 

Temple,  and  were  heard  in  the  streets  and  quar* 
JG 


242  True  Stories  from  History, 

ters  over  which  that  gloomy  Temple  frowned. 
At  length,  when  their  first  impassioned  grief  was 
exhausted,  and  their  tears  ceased  to  flow,  by 
reason  of  physical  exhaustion,  there  succeeded  a 
whispered  conversation,  interrupted  by  kisses  and 
embraces,  which  lasted  for  two  hours.  At  last, 
however,  they  were  obliged  to  separate.  Louis  in 
his  tenderness,  and  to  alleviate  the  sorrow  of  the 
Queen,  promised  to  see  them  once  more  in  the 
morning,  and  bid  them  adieu  with  “  a  gesture  and 
voice  which  revealed  at  once  a  whole  past  life  of 
tenderness,  a  present  of  anguish,  a  future  of  eternal 
separation,  but  in  which  could  be  distinguished 
an  accent  of  serenity,  hope  and  religious  joy, 
which  seemed  to  indicate  the  confident  expecta¬ 
tion  of  a  reunion  in  a  better  world.” 

Early  the  next  morning  Louis  received  the 
sacrament  from  the  hands  of  the  good  Abbe,  and 
calmly  awaited  the  hour  of  execution.  “  How 
happy  I  am,”  exclaimed  the  King,  “  that  I  main¬ 
tained  my  faith  on  the  throne.  Where  should  I 
be  to-day,  but  for  this  hope  2  Yes,  there  is  on 


Imprisonment  and  Execution.  243 


high,  a  Judge  incorruptible,  who  will  award  to  me 
that  measure  of  justice  which  men  refuse  to  me 
here  below.” 

At  nine  o’clock  there  was  a  tumult  of  approach¬ 
ing  steps,  and  the  doors  of  his  apartment  were 
thrown  open.  The  King  said  to  Santerre,  who 
commanded  the  escort — “  You  are  come  for  me  ; 
I  will  be  with  you  in  an  instant :  await  me  there.” 
lie  then  turned  to  the  priest,  and  kneeling,  begged 
his  blessing  and  his  prayers.  Then  pressing  the 
hand  of  his  servant,  Clery,  in  a  mute  farewell,  he 
said  to  the  officer,  “  let  us  go.”  The  escort  formed, 
the  King  left  the  Temple,  ascended  the  carriage, 
and  was  driven  through  the  streets  to  the  Place  de 
la  Revolution.  There  stood  the  guillotine,  sur¬ 
rounded  by  a  hundred  thousand  people,  and  there 
waited  the  executioners.  They  ignominiously 
bound  him,  and  supported  by  the  priest  he  as¬ 
cended  the  steep  and  slippery  steps  of  the  scaffold. 
Crossing  the  scaffold  with  a  firm  tread,  he  turned, 
and  facing  the  multitude  he  said, — “  People,  I 
die  innocent  of  all  the  crimes  imputed  to  me. 


244  True  Stories  from  History. 


I  pardon  the  authors  of  my  death,  and  pray  to 
God  that  the  "blood  you  are  about  to  shed  may 
not  fall  on  France.”  He  then  surrendered  him¬ 
self  to  the  executioners.  He  was  fastened  to  the 
plank  The  knife  glided,  and  the  head  of  Louis 
XVI.  fell. 


VIII. 


gtitrie*  Antoinette,  (Elbaktlj,  ano  tire 

$opl  OiUfteu. 


T  the  early  age  of  fifteen  Marie  Antoinette 


-L-*-  was  married  to  Lords,  the  grandson  of  the 
King,  Louis  XV.,  and  heir  apparent  to  the  throne 
of  France.  Descended  from  the  royal  house  of 
Austria,  the  daughter  of  Maria  Theresa,  she  had 
begun  her  life  amid  the  storms  of  monarchy,  and 
in  all  its  progress,  down  to  its  fatal  close,  it  seemed 
to  be  her  fate  to  attract  the  pity  and  interest  of  all 
generous  hearts  that  traced  her  history.  She  was 
one  of  the  children  whom  the  Empress,  her 
mother,  held  by  the  hand  when  she  presented  her¬ 
self  as  a  supplicant  before  her  faithful  Hungarians, 
and  the  troops  exclaimed,  “We  will  die  for  our 
King,  Maria  Theresa.” 

Marie  Antoinette  was  richly  and  liberally  en- 


246  True  Stories  from  History. 

dowed  by  nature.  She  bacl  tbe  heart  of  a  king, 
and  was  swayed  by  noble  impulses.  Her  firmness 
and  courage,  when  once  called  forth  by  the  exi¬ 
gencies  of  events,  were  remarkable  for  their  calm 

and  sustaining  power,  but  she  was  wanting  in  that 

« 

prudence  and  foresight  in  avoiding  difficulties, 
and  that  firmness  of  purpose  and  policy  which 
could  fix  the  wavering  monarch,  and  aid  him  in 
guiding  the  affairs  of  State,  amidst  the  difficulties 
and  perils  which  thickened  around  them. 

In  her  person  she  is  represented  as  extremely 
beautiful.  She  was  tall  and  slim,  with  a  majestic 
carriage  and  a  dignity  of  bearing  which  was  soft¬ 
ened  and  beautified  by  a  gentle  expression  of 
countenance,  and  a  pensive  and  intelligent  smile 
which  indicated  the  kindness  of  her  heart  and  the 
warmth  of  her  affections.  Although  the  defects 
of  her  early  education  were  never  repaired  by 
later  acquisitions  of  knowledge,  yet  her  fine  oval 
countenance  shaded,  in  profusion,  by  her  long, 
silky,  light  brown  hair,  and  lighted  up  by  her 
clear  blue  eyes,  was  animated,  varying  and  irnpas- 


Marie  Antoinette.  247 

ssioned,  and  made  her  pre-eminent  for  loveliness 
and  beauty  among  all  who  constituted  that  bril¬ 
liant  court.  But  yet  these  brilliant  personal  qual¬ 
ities,  added  to  the  goodness  of  her  heart,  and  the 
undoubted  purity  of  her  life,  did  not  shield  her 
from  sorrows  and  sufferings  such  as  are  rarely 
borne  in  this  life  in  which  sorrow  and  suffering  is 
the  common  inheritance.  She  had  the  terrible 
misfortune  of  being  hated  by  the  people,  and  mis¬ 
represented  and  calumniated.  The  most  infamous 
stories  were  circulated  to  her  prejudice,  and  the 
most  scandalous  anecdotes  were  propagated  and 
retailed  among  her  enemies.  She  was  an  Aus¬ 
trian,  and  the  French  people  feared  and  hated 
Austrian  influence.  And.  it  must  be  confessed, 
that  she  was  destitute  of  those  qualities  which 
would  have  enabled  her  to  conciliate  faction,  or  to 
stand  up  against  the  storms  of  revolution,  or  to 
regulate  the  disordered  elements  which  were 
raging  around  her.  She  had  not  anticipated  mis¬ 
fortunes,  and  therefore  was  not  forearmed  against 
them.  When  she  reached  the  French  Court  she 


243  True  Stories  from  History. 


•was  welcomed  with,  enthusiasm,  and  received  by 
the  nation  with  ardent  expressions  of  loyalty  and 
affection.  When  she  heard,  therefore,  the  first 
threatening^  of  the  tempest — the  first  beatings  of 
the  surges  which  were  destined  to  engulf  her  and 
all  that  was  precious  and  dear  to  her  heart — she 
was  unconscious  of  the  danger.  She  had  no  fore¬ 
sight  for  misfortune.  She  had  trusted  in  the  en¬ 
thusiasm  and  the  affection  she  had  inspired,  and 
which  she  felt  in  her  own  bosom,  and  when  this 
reliance  failed  she  had  no  reserved  expedients  on 
which  she  could  fall  back,  and  consequently  en¬ 
mity  and  malignity  grew  and  increased,  while  her 
life  darkened  more  and  more  until  its  final 
eclipse. 

As  the  Revolution  proceeded,  the  Queen  per¬ 
ceived,  too  late,  the  hostility  which  was  arrayed  in 
all  its  strength  and  bitterness  against  the  throne. 
Then  came  the  recoil  of  all  her  feelings  of  love  for 
her  people,  and  the  excitement  of  her  deep  and 
strong  resentments  against  those  who  had  so  cru¬ 
elly  outraged  her  confidence  and  affection.  She 


Marie  Antoinette. 


249 


was  accused  of  conspiring  against  the  nation,  and 
stories  of  Austrian  influence  were  busily  circulated 
everywhere.  The  people,  therefore,  sought  her 
life,  and  coupled  her  name  with  every  species  of 
infamy  in  their  songs  of  rage.  She  was  represent¬ 
ed  as  the  enemy  of  the  whole  nation,  and  her 
pride  disdained  to  undeceive  them.  She  enclosed 
herself  in  her  resentment  and  terror,  as  if  that 
were  a  panoply  in  which  she  might  shield  her 
heart.  Imprisoned  in  the  palace  of  the  Tuileries, 
she  was  there  pursued  by  malignant  outrage  and 
insult,  and  every  unusual  sound  that  reached  her 
from  without  made  her  bosom  throb  with  appre¬ 
hension  of  insurrection  and  massacre.  For  two 
years  she  suffered  this  ceaseless  agony,  and  that 
anguish  was  increased  by  her  love  for  her  two 
children,  and  by  her  fears  for  the  King.  It  was 
there  that  she  consulted  and  planned  with  her 
friends,  always  in  secret  and  often  by  stealth, 
watched  as  she  was  by  her  servants,  who  acted  as 
spies  upon  her  conduct.  Measures  of  resistance 
were  proposed — schemes  for  bribing  the  Assembly 


250  True  Stories  from  II i story. 


— plats  for  surrendering  tlie  Constitution — attempts 
by  force — assumption  of  the  royal  dignity — repent¬ 
ance,  weakness,  terror  and  flight — all  these  expe¬ 
dients  were  discussed,  planned,  decided  on,  pre¬ 
pared  and  abandoned,  on  the  same  day.  All  was 
indecision.  There  was  wanting  that  firmness  and 
that  persistent  resolution  which  is  necessary  to 
secure  the  success  of  a  political  plan.  This  inde¬ 
cision  was;  doubtless,  extremely  prejudicial  to  the 
interests  of  the  King,  who  was  himself  wavering 
and  timid.  The  Queen  possessed  a  mind  much 
superior  to  his,  but  with  more  soul,  more  charac¬ 
ter,  and  more  courage  than  he,  her  superiority 
only  served  to  embarrass  his  interests  by  suggest¬ 
ing  expedients  which  were  impracticable  and  preju 
dicial.  She  was  at  once  the  charm  of  his  life,  the 
light  of  his  heart,  and  the  genius  of  his  destruc¬ 
tion;  but  while  she  led  him  on,  step  by  step,  to 
the  scaffold,  she  shrunk  not  from  the  fatal  penalty, 
but  ascended  it  with  him,  and  redeemed  her  impru¬ 
dence  with  her  blood. 

When  Louis  XVI,  tore  himself  from  the  last 


Marie  Antoinette.  251 

embraces  of  liis  family  to  go  to  bis  death,  tbe 
Queen  threw  herself  upon  her  bed,  in  her  clothes, 
where  she  remained  through  long  and  weary  hours, 
pluuged  in  continued  swoons,  interrupted  by  sobs 
and  prayers.  She  desired  ardently  to  know  the 
exact  moment  when  the  execution  took  place,  that 
she  might  invoke  him  as  a  protector  in  heaven 
whom  she  had  lost  as  a  spouse  on  earth.  She 
wished,  too,  to  be  informed  of  the  sad  details  of  his 
last  moments,  and  to  receive  his  last  words.  She 
knew  that  he  would  die  as  a  man,  and  as  a  Chris¬ 
tian  ;  she  wished  also  to  know  if  he  bore  himself 
to  the  last  as  a  king.  But  this  consolation  was 
denied  her.  Her  inhuman  keepers  even  prevented 
her  receiving  the  locks  of  hair,  and  the  marriage 
ring,  which  had  been  entrusted  to  Clery,  the  faith¬ 
ful  servant  of  the  King. 

She  was,  however,  permitted  by  her  goalers  to 
put  on  mourning,  as  a  last  mark  of  respect  to  the 
memory  of  her  husband.  But  even  this  request 
was  not  granted  without  coupling  with  the  permis¬ 
sion  the  disgraceful  condition  that  her  mourning 


252  True  Stories  from  IIistory. 

weeds  should  be  simple  and  inexpensive.  After 
this  her  captivity  became  closer  and  more  strictly, 
guarded.  Several  attempts  were  made  to  soften 
its  rigors,  and  to  contrive  means  to  communicate 
with  the  Queen  from  without,  and  plots  were 
framed  for  her  liberation.  But  so  closely  was  she 
guarded,  and  so  determined  and  implacable  was 
the  feeling  against  her  among  the  people,  that  all 
efforts  were  unavailing.  Six  months  more  wore 
away  in  this  cruel  captivity,  and  then  she  was 
removed  from  the  Temple  to  the  prison  of  the 
Conciergerie,  to  await  immediate  trial. 

When  this  order  came,  she  heard  it  without 
betraying  either  astonishment  or  grief.  She 
seemed  to  regard  it  as  one  step  nearer  to  the  end 
which  she  saw  was  inevitable,  and  which  she 
wished  was  nearer  still.  She  took  leave  of  her 
daughter  and  the  Princess  Elizabeth.  Folding  her 
beautiful  child  in  her  arms,  she  covered  her  with 
blessings  and  with  tears,  recommending  to  her  the 
same  forgiveness  of  their  enemies  and  forgetful¬ 
ness  of  their  persecutions  as  the  King  had  recom- 


Marie  Antoinette. 


253 


mended  to  her  at  their  last  parting.  She  then 
placed  the  hands  of  her  daughter  in  those  of  the 
Princess  Elizabeth,  saying,  “  Behold  the  person 
who  will  henceforth  be  to  you  in  the  place  of  father 
and  mother.  Obey  her  and  love  her  as  if  she  were 
myself.  And  you,  my  sister,”  she  said  to  the 
Princess,  “  I  commit  to  you  the  precious  trust. 
Be  a  mother  to  my  poor  children.  Love  them  as 
you  have  loved  us,  even  in  the  dungeon,  and  unto 
death.” 

On  the  14th  day  of  October,  she  was  taken  from 
her  cell  into  the  judgment-hall,  surrounded  by  a 
strong  guard,  for  trial.  As  she  seated  herself  upon 
the  bench  of  the  accused,  her  judges  could  not 
have  failed  to  remark  the  sad  decay  of  her  peerless 
beauty  in  the  deep  lines  which  anguish  and  suffer¬ 
ing  had  traced  upon  her  countenance.  But,  though 
scathed  by  the  Revolution,  and  faded  by  grief,  she 
was  neither  cast  down  nor  overcome.  Her  eyes, 
though  sunken  by  sorrow,  and  surrounded  by 
that  black  circle  which  betrayed  sleepless  nights 
and  scalding  tears,  still  flashed  with  something  of 


254  True  Stories  from  History. 

tlicir  former  brilliancy  upon  her  enemies.  The 
beauty  which  had  dazzled  the  Court,  and  been 
renowned  throughout  Europe  in  her  days  of  youth 
and  happiness,  was  no  longer  discernible,  but  yet 
the  traces  and  lineaments  of  that  loveliness  could 
be  distinguished  amidst  the  deep  lines  her  sorrows 
had  graved.  Her  hair,  once  so  beautiful,  now 
whitened  by  anguish,  flowed  down  her  neck,  a 
mute  appeal  for  sympathy,  as  well  as  sad  witness 
of  the  wrongs  and  cruelties  with  which  her  woman¬ 
hood  had  been  outraged  by  the  unfeeling  monsters 
of  the  Revolution.  She  appeared  not  as  an  irri¬ 
tated  queen,  nor  as  a  suppliant  who  intercedes  by 
her  humility,  but  as  a  victim  whom  long  misfor¬ 
tune  had  habituated  to  her  lot,  who  had  forgotten 
that  she  was  a  queen,  and  remembered  only  that 
she  was  a  woman,  claiming  nothing  of  her  past 
rank,  and  resigning  nothing  of  the  dignity  of  her 
sex,  and  her  deep  distress. 

The  trial  of  Marie  Antoinette  was  short,  and 
followed  immediately  by  her  condemnation.  In 
the  circumstances  of  the  times  she  was  not  allowed 


Marie  Antoinette.  255 

those  religious  consolations  which  she  desired  and 
needed  to  prepare  her  for  her  execution.  It  is 
true  that  priests  were  sent  to  her,  for  the  forms  of 
religion  were  still  kept  up  bj  the  revolutionists, 
but  they  were  not  priests  who  were  in  communion 
with  the  Church  of  Rome,  and  she  could  not  accept 
their  services.  Touched  with  a  feeling  of  grati¬ 
tude  and  kindness  for  their  attention,  she  thanked 
them,  but  respectfully  declined  to  confess  to  them, 
or  to  receive  their  absolution  and  blessing.  She 
addressed  herself  earnestly  to  her  devotions  to 
God,  and  thus  sought  to  make  preparation  for  the 
last  hour.  During  the  night  she  wrote  a  long  and 
tender  letter  to  Madame  Elizabeth,  earnestly  thank¬ 
ing  her  for  all  her  love,  and  commending  her  chil¬ 
dren  anew  to  her  care.  The  next  day  she  was  con¬ 
ducted  to  the  scaffold,  amidst  the  derisive  shouts 
of  the  populace,  and  there  calmly  and  piously 
ended  her  troubled  life. 


IX. 


|bpl  Cjjilta,  in  %  f  Angle. 


HEX  the  King  was  assailed  by  the  mob  in 


'  *  the  palace  of  the  Tuileries,  as  he  turned  to 
face  the  turbulent  multitude,  he  saw  his  sister, 
Madame  Elizabeth,  who  extended  her  arms  towards 
him,  and  was  anxious  to  rush  forward,  as  if  to 
shield  him  from  the  weapons  which  thousands  of 
hands  were  brandishing  over  his  head.  She  had 
escaped  from  the  ladies  who  surrounded  the  Queen 
and  the  children,  and  followed  the  King  into  the 
thickest  of  the  danger.  She  was  fondly  attached 
to  her  brother,  and  would  readily  have  yielded  up 
her  life,  if  by  this  sacrifice  she  could  have  saved 


his. 


Young,  beautiful,  and  deeply  respected  in  the 


Madame  Elizabeth.  257 

Court,  for  the  piety  of  her  life  ancl  the  purity  of 
her  character,  as  well  as  for  her  passionate  devot¬ 
edness  to  the  King,  she  had  renounced  all  other 
affection  and  all  selfish  interests,  that  she  might 
^devote  herself  to  her  family.  When  they  were 
consigned  to  the  Tower,  Madame  Elizabeth  was 
still  their  support  and  soother.  In  that  gloomy 
prison,  where  for  many  months  there  came  no  sun¬ 
shine  of  life,  no  report  from  without,  no  consola¬ 
tions  of  friendship,  no  images  of  love,  no  last 
smiles  of  the  dying,  and  no  words  of  hope  for 
those  who  survived,  in  that  sealed  tomb  this  love¬ 
ly  princess  was  immured,  while  she  saw  her  brother 
and  her  sister,  the  Queen,  torn  cruelly  from  her 
embrace,  to  be  led  to  execution. 

Madame  Elizabeth  had  learned,  by  some  imper¬ 
fect  intimations  that  had  been  secretly  conveyed  to 
her,  the  fate  which  had  overtaken  the  Queen,  but 
she  did  not  reveal  all  the  truth  to  her  niece.  She 
allowed  her  to  waver  in  that  doubt  which  surmises 
the  worst,  but  which  does  not  close  the  heart  to  all 

hope.  Confined  in  still  closer  captivity,  now  that 

17 


258  True  Stories  from  His  tort, 

the  Queen  liad  been  removed,  deprived  of  exercise, 
books  and  fire,  and  almost  of  nourishment  by  them 
unpitying  goalers,  the  two  princesses  Lad  passed 
the  autumn  and  winter  without  knowing  what  was 
going  on  in  the  world  around  them.  Deprived 
of  the  means  of  amusement  such  as  had  heretofore 
served  to  while  away  their  mournful  hours,  cut 
off  from  seeing  the  Dauphin,  or  contributing  to  his 
comfort  by  their  presence  and  affection,  they  could 
do  little  but  mourn  over  the  terrible  fate  in  which 
they  were  all  embraced.  At  length  came  the  order 
for  the  trial  of  Madame  Elizabeth. 

On  the  9th  of  Ma}T,  nearly  sixteen  months  after 
the  execution  of  the  King,  at  the  moment  when 
the  princesses,  half  undressed,  were  praying  at  the 
foot  of  their  beds,  before  retiring  to  rest,  they  were 
suddenly  alarmed  by  loud  and  repeated  blows 
upon  the  door  of  their  chamber,  Madame  Eliza¬ 
beth  hastened  to  dress  herself,  and  on  opening  the 
door  she  was  met  by  the  turnkeys,  who  command¬ 
ed  her  to  descend  immediately.  She  foresaw  her 
fate,  and  that  there  was  no  resistance.  She  was  to 


Madame  Elizabeth. 


259 


be  separated  from  her  niece.  But  one  stejo  was 
between  ber  and  the  cruel  guillotine.  There  was 
the  anguish  of  separation,  but  no  fear  of  what  lay 
beyond  that  parting.  She  tenderly  and  passion¬ 
ately  embraced  the  princess,  and  weeping  upon  her 
neck,  prolonged  the  parting,  until  the  implacable 
guards,  with  harsh  invectives,  and  imperious  epi¬ 
thets,  compelled  her  to  go.  Having  descended  to 
the  gate  of  the  Tower,  she  was  there  met  by  the 
commissaries,  who  made  her  take  a  seat  in  a  car¬ 
riage,  and  at  midnight  conducted  her  to  the  Con- 
ciergerie. 

The  next  day  she  vras  brought  before  the  tribu¬ 
nal  for  trial,  accompanied  by  twenty-four  others, 
of  both  sexes,  and  of  different  ages.  The  accusa¬ 
tion  was  read  to  her,  and  was  followed  by  the 
examination,  conducted  in  the  usual  summary  and 
cruel  manner,  and  she  was  condemned.  She  heard 
her  sentence  with  calmness,  and  -without  grief. 
The  only  favor  she  asked  was  that  she  might  be 
attended,  in  her  last  hours,  by  a  priest  in  whose 
fidelity  she  could  trust.  But  as  in  the  case  of  the 


260  True  Stories  from  History. 

Queen,  this  request  was  refused,  and  she  was  left  to 
her  own  devotions  for  preparation  for  the  last  ter¬ 
rible  hour.  Some  time  before  that  hour  arrived, 
she  entered  the  .common  dungeon  to  encourage 
her  companions  by  her  counsel,  her  prayers,  and 
her  calm  resignation.  They  then  cut  off  her  long 
fair  hair,  which  was  divided  among  the  females 
who  were  to  suffer  with  her,  and  the  officers  of  the 
guard  who  led  her  to  execution.  Her  hands  were 
then  bound,  and  she  was  placed  last  in  the  cars  in 
which  they  were  carried  from  the  prison. 

The  people  had  assembled  in  crowds  to  witness 
the  spectacle,  but  instead  of  offering  her  insult 
upon  her  passage,  they  were  silent  and  almost 
respectful.  Her  beauty,  made  angelic  by  the 
peace  which  pervaded  her  spirit — her  innocence  of 
all  the  difficulties  and  disorders  which  had  alien¬ 
ated  them  from  the  throne — her  youth  sacrificed 
to  the  affection  which  she  bore  the  King  and  the 
royal  family,  made  her  a  victim  almost  sacred  in 
the  eyes  even  of  the  mad  populace,  and  repressed 
in  them  the  usual  outbreak  of  derision  and  scorn 


Maria  Theresa. 


261 


with,  which  they  hailed  the  passage  of  the  con¬ 
demned.  Her  companions,  before  they  suffered — 
for  she  was  the  last  of  that  day’s  horrible  sacrifice 
— humbly  approached  the  princess  and  embraced 
her.  And  when  she  had  thus  witnessed  their 
agony,  she,  too,  ascended  the  scaffold,  and  yielded 
her  head  to  the  axe. 

In  the  meanwhile,  the  Dauphin  and  the  Princess, 
his  sister,  remained  in  the  Temple,  confined  in 
separate  apartments— allowed  no  intercourse  with 
each  other,  and  subjected  to  the  most  inhuman 
and  unfeeling  treatment.  The  sorrows  of  Maria 
Theresa  began  almost  at  her  birth,  and  ended 
only  with  her  life.  Misfortune  seemed  to  have 
laid  her  hand  upon  the  innocent  child  in  her 
cradle.  Orphaned  by  the  scaffold ;  passing  from 
the  Tuileries  to  a  closer  prison  in  the  tower— from 
the  Temple  to  exile  ;  only  entering  her  own 
country  at  a  later  day  to  suffer  again  the  pitiless 
law  of  banishment,  and  dying  far  from  the  tomb 
of  her  ancestors.  Such  was  her  life —  a  long  series 
of  suffering — a  protracted  martyrdom. 


262  True  Stories  from  History. 

Maria  Theresa  received  at  her  hirth  the  title  of 
Madame  Koval — a-  magnificent  and  derisive  title, 
when  we  think  of  her  sad  destiny.  Carefully  and 
piously  educated,  she  cherished  those  religious 
sentiments  which  sustained  her  in  the  midst  of  her 
long  trials  and  vicissitudes.  When  the  evil  days 
came,  they  found  her  prepared.  While  a  captive 
in  the  Temple  she  saw  all  she  loved,  all  she  cher¬ 
ished,  torn  away  from  her.  The  sole  remnant  of 
that  unhappy  group  of  victims,  she  would  proba¬ 
bly  have  sunk,  also,  under  the  tortures  that  were 
systematically  inflicted  upon  her,  had  not  the 
Directory,  in  December  1795,  consented  to  ex¬ 
change  her  as  a  prisoner  of  war,  with  the  Austrian 
government,  for  some  French  officers  whom  they 
held  captive.  She  went  directly  to  Vienna,  and 
several  years  afterwards  she  married  her  cousin, 
the  Duke  d’Angouleme,  son  of  Count  d’ Artois, 
afterwards  Charles  X. 

But  the  misfortunes  of  Maria  Theresa  did  not 
end  here.  She  shared  all  the  vicissitudes  of  her 
family.  After  living  for  several  years  in  Germany, 


The  Dauphin. 


263 


the  royal  family  were  driven  from  the  Continent 
by  the  successes  of  the  French  army,  and  in  1809, 
they  established  themselves  in  England  After 
the  fall  of  Napoleon  she  returned  to  France  with 
the  Bourbon  family,  and  for  fifteen  years  she  lived 
in  the  palace  of  the  Tuilcries.  The  Revolution  of 
1830  again  sent  her  into  exile.  After  her  widow¬ 
hood  she  took  the  name  of  Countess  of  Marnes, 
from  an  estate  in  her  possession,  and  on  the  18  th 
of  October,  1851,  she  died  at  the  castle  of  Frohs- 
dorlf.  in  Germany. 

A  far  different  fate  awaited  the  Dauphin.  His 
story  is  one  of  sad  interest.  He  is  supposed  to 
have  died  of  the  cruelties  which  he  received,  from 
his  brutal  goalers  in  the  Temple.  But  the  deep  ob¬ 
scurity  which  shrouded  the  last  eighteen  months 
of  his  life,  and  the  mystery  in  which  his  death  and 
burial  were  so  strangely,  and  as  it  seemed,  so 
studiously  involved,  have  created  doubts  whether 
another  child  about  his  years  was  not  substituted 
for  him,  and  he  sent  away  from  the  country. 
There  is  evidence  of  the  extent  of  this  feeling  in 


264  True  Stories  from  History. 

the  fact  that  a  number  of  pretenders  have  appeared 
in  France  to  claim  identity  with  him.  But  the 
most  remarkable  of  these  claims,  and  it  would 
seem  by  far  the  best  sustained,  are  those  of  the 
Reverend  Eleazar  AYilliams,  now  a  missionary  of 
the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church  among  the  St. 
Regis  Indians,  in  the  northern  part  of  the  State  of 
New  York.  Among  the  more  prominent  of  these 
pretenders  in  France  were  Hervagault,  who  came 
forward  within  a  few  years  after  the  revolution, 
Bruneau  and  Richemont  afterwards,  and  Naundorf, 
whose  career  was  run  during  the  reign  of  Louis 
Philippe.  These  attempts  to  personate  the  Dau¬ 
phin,  and  the  success  which,  for  a  time,  attended 
them,  may  be  taken  as  evidence  of  the  uncertainty 
in  which  his  closing  days  were  involved,  and  also 
of  the  prevalence  of  the  impression  or  feeling 
among  the  French  people  that  he  was  still  living. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  year  1852,  M.  de  Beau- 
chesne  published  in  Paris  a  work  in  two  volumes, 
entitled  Louis  XVII.,  liis  Life ,  Sufferings ,  and 
Death ,  and  containing  an  account  of  the  captivity 


The  Dauphin. 


265 


of  the  Royal  Family  in  the  Temple.  Nearly  simul¬ 
taneously,  there  appeared  in  Putnam's  Monthly 
Magazine ,  in  New  York,  an  article  on  the  subject 
of  the  lost  Bourbon,  in  which  the  author  seeks  to 
show  that  the  Rev.  Mr.  Williams  is  the  Prince, 
Louis  NYU.  In  the  former  work,  de  Beaucliesne 
has  collected  all  the  evidence  that  the  fury  of  the 
revolution  and  the  lapse  of  time  might  have 
spared,  as  to  the  authentic  circumstances  of  his  life 
and  death.  After  an  examination  of  these  circum¬ 
stances  and  proofs,  it  will  be  right  to  go  over  the 
ground  taken  by  our  American  writer  as  respects 
the  claims  of  Mr.  Williams.  All  this  will  involve 
a  somewhat  detailed  account  of  the  captivity  in  the 
tower  of  the  Temple. 

Louis  Charles,  the  second  son  of  Louis  XYI. 
and  Marie  Antoinette,  was  born  at  Versailles,  on 
the  27th  day  of  March,  1785,  and  received  the  title 
of  the  Duke  of  Normandy.  On  the  death  of  his 
elder  brother,  in  1789,  he  became  heir  apparent  to 
the  throne,  but  in  fact  heir  to  nothing  but  persecu¬ 
tion,  misfortune,  and  suffering.  He  is  described 


266  True  Stories  from  History. 

as  a  very  beautifurchild,  with  large  blue  eyes,  del¬ 
icate  features,  light  curling  hair,  limbs  well  formed, 
ratber  tall  for  his  years,  and  with  a  sweet  express¬ 
ion  of  countenance,  intelligent  and  vivacious. 

It  is  worthy  of  remark,  as  showing  the  atrocious 
disregard,  not  merely  of  royal  authority,  but  of  the 
ordinary  dictates  of  humanity,  and  the  first  feel¬ 
ings  of  nature,  that  within  two  hours  after  the 
death  of  the  first  Dauphin,  the  Chamber  of  the 
Tiers-Etat  sent  a  deputation  on  business  to  the 
King,  who  had  shut  himself  up  in  his  private  apart¬ 
ment  to  indulge  his  sorrow.  When  the  King  sent 
them  word  that  his  recent  misfortune  would  pre¬ 
vent  his  receiving  them  on  that  day,  they  rudely 
insisted  on  their  right  of  audience,  as  representa¬ 
tives  of  the  people;  and  to  their  repeated  and  more 
peremptory  requisitions,  the  unhappy  father  and 
insulted  monarch  was  forced  to  yield,  with  the 
touching  reproof,  however,  of  asking — “  Are  there 
no  fathers  among  them?”  A  month  later  the  Bas¬ 
tille  was  taken,  and  on  the  6th  of  October  another 
insurrection  stormed  the  palace  of  Versailles,  mas- 


The  Dauphin. 


267 


sacred  the  guards,  and  led  the  Royal  Family  in 
captivity  to  Paris.  For  three  years  they  endured 
all  the  insults,  persecutions,  and  outrages  of  captiv¬ 
ity  in  the  Tuileries,  and  then  the  terrible  insurrec¬ 
tion  and  massacre  of  the  10th  of  August  occurred, 
which  swept  away  the  remains  of  monarchy,  and 
consigned  them  to  the  prison  of  the  Temple.  This 
was  an  old  fortress  of  the  Knights  Templar,  built ' 
in  the  year  1212,  and  which  had  long  remained 
uninhabited. 

The  National  Assembly  which  had  sent  the 
King  to  prison,  and  the  Convention  which  deposed 
him,  seemed  to  the  eyes  of  the  world  sufficiently 
audacious,  tyrannical  and  brutal,  but  there  was  a 
power  which  exceeded  them  in  all  such  qualities, 
and  under  which  those  terrible  assemblies  them¬ 
selves  quailed — and  that  was  the  Commune ,  or  the 
Common  Council  of  the  city  of  Paris.  To  this 
body  the  Convention  owed  its  existence,  and  its 
most  prominent  members  their  individual  election. 
Inflated  with  its  successes,  it  arrogated  to  itself  a 
power  insultingly  independent  of  all  other  author- 


268  True  Stories  from  History. 

it y  or  government.  It  was  composed,  with  rare 
exceptions,  of  tradesmen  of  a  secondary  class,  men 
only  known  even  in  tlieir  own  low  circles  by  the 
blind  and  noisy  violence  of  their  patriotism ,  as  it 
was  miscalled,  by  an  earnest  enmity  to  all  that 
they  called  aristocracy,  and  by  the  most  intense 
and  ignorant  prejudices  against  the  persons  and 
characters  of  the  Royal  Family.  To  the  tender 
mercies  of  these  vulgar,  illiterate,  and  furious  dem¬ 
agogues  that  family  was  delivered  over.  They 
assigned  the  tower  of  the  Temple  as  the  royal 
prison.  They  appointed  from  amongst  themselves 
all  the  official  authorities,  who  were  selected  for 
their  brutality,  and  charged  with  the  most  capri¬ 
cious  jealousy  so  as  to  ensure  not  merely  the  safe 
custody  of  the  prisoners,  but  the  wanton  infliction 
of  every  kind  of  personal  indignity.  To  the 
usurped  but  conceded  supremacy  of  the  Commune, 
and  the  vulgar  habits  and  rancorous  feeling  of  the 
majority  of  its  members,  may,  doubtless,  be  more 
immediately  attributed  the  otherwise  inexplicable 
brutality  of  the  keepers  of  the  Temple.  Every 


The  Royal  Prisoners.  269 

page  of  the  histories  of  those  mournful  days  and 
years,  and  especially  in  the  account  which  the 
princess,  Maria  Theresa,  has  given  to  the  world, 
exhibits  proofs  of  the  wanton  outrages  of  the  Com¬ 
mune  and  their  tools. 

Among  their  early  official  acts  they  established 
the  following  decrees: — “  1.  That  Louis  and  An¬ 
toinette  shall  be  separated.  2.  That  each  prisoner 
shall  have  a  separate  dungeon.  3.  That  the  valet- 
de-chambre  shall  be  placed  in  confinement.  4. 
That  Hebert  shall  be  added  to  the  five  existing 
Commissaries.  5.  That  this  decree  shall  be  carried 
into  effect  this  evening — immediately — even  to 
taking  from  them  the  plate,  and  other  table  uten¬ 
sils.  In  a  word,  the  General  Council  gives  the 
Commissaries  full  power  to  do  whatever  their  pru¬ 
dence  may  suggest  for  the  safe  custody  of  these 
hostages.” 

In  virtue  of  this  decree,  the  King  was  removed 
that  night  to  the  second  story  of  the  great  tower, 
where  no  furniture  had  been  prepared  for  his  use 
but  a  temporary  bed,  while  his  servant  sat  up  in  a 


270  True  Stories  from  History. 

chair.  The  separation  of  the  rest  of  the  family 
was  postponed,  and  they  were  for  some  time  per¬ 
mitted,  not  without  difficulty,  to  take  their  meals 
with  the  King.  This  arrangement  continued  for  a 
month,  when  the  ladies  and  the  children  were 
transferred  to  an  apartment  immediately  over  the 
King’s.  Shortly  afterwards,  a  fresh  decree  directed 
that  the  Dauphin  should  he  removed  from  his 
mother’s  to  his  father’s  apartment,  under  the  pre¬ 
text  that  the  hoy  was  too  old  to  he  left  in  the 
hands  of  women.  The  real  purpose,  however, 
seems  to  have  been,  undoubtedly,  to  add  to  the  af¬ 
flictions  and  insults  heaped  upon  the  Queen. 

For  a  short  time  after  the  whole  family  had 
been  quartered  in  the  great  tower,  though  separat¬ 
ed  at  night,  and  for  a  greater  portion  of  the  day, 
they  were  less  unhappy.  They  had  their  meals 
together,  and  were  allowed  to  meet  in  the  garden, 
though  always  strictly  watched  and  habitually 
insulted.  They  bore  all  such  outrages  with  ad¬ 
mirable  patience,  and  found  consolation  in  the  ex¬ 
ercise  of  whatever  urns  still  possible  of  their  re- 


The  Royal  Prisoners. 


271 


spective  duties.  Tlie  King  pursued  a  regular 
course  of  instruction  for  Ms  son — in  writing,  arith¬ 
metic,  geography,  Latin,  and  the  history  of  France 
— the  ladies  carried  on  the  education  of  the  young 
princess,  and  were  reduced  to  the  necessity  of 
inending  not  only  their  own  clothes,  but  even 
those  of  the  King  and  prince ;  which,  as  they  had 
each  but  one  suit,  Madame  Elizabeth  used  to  do 
after  they  were  in  bed. 

This  mode  of  life  lasted  some  two  months,  when 
a  new  set  of  Commissaries  were  installed,  who 
watched  the  prisoners  day  and  night  with  in¬ 
creased  rigor  and  insolence.  At  last,  on  the  11th 
of  December,  the  young  prince  was  taken  back  to 
the  apartment  of  his  mother.  The  King  was  sum¬ 
moned  to  the  bar  of  the  Convention,  and,  on  his 
return  in  the  evening,  he  was  met  by  an  order  for 
his  total  separation  from  the  whole  of  his  family. 
The  absurdity  of  such  an  order  surprised,  and  its 
cruelty  revolted,  even  Ms  patience.  lie  addressed 
a  strong  remonstrance  to  the  Convention  on  this 
barbarous  interdiction.  But  it  was  in  vain  for 


272  True  Stories  from  History. 


Mm  to  think  to  move  the  stony  heart  of  either 
the  Convention  or  the  Commune,  so  as  to  procure 
any  mitigation  of  the  cruel  sentence.  He  might  as 
well  have  appealed  to  the  gloomy  walls  which 
shut  him  in  from  the  light  of  heaven  and  the  fel¬ 
lowship  of  his  friends.  He  never  saw  any  of  his 
family  again  till  the  eve  of  the  fatal  21st  of  Janu¬ 
ary,  when  he  died  upon  the  scaffold  under  the 
eyes  of  an  hundred  thousand  enemies. 


X. 


Sprit  Antoinette,  $pirtiitme  ^lijntetlr,  anti  % 
|topl  Children,  in  flje  fcinjik. 


HR  history  has  now  brought  us  down  to  the 


reign  of  Louis  XVII.  The  regency  of  his 
kingdom  was  assumed  by  his  uncle,  the  Comte 
<de  Provence,  and  he  was  proclaimed  king  by  his 
title,  by  the  armies  of  Conde  and  of  La  Vendee, 
and  from  all  the  principal  courts  of  Europe  with 
which  France  was  not  already  at  war,  the  repub¬ 
lican  envoys  were  at  once  dismissed.  In  short, 
he  was  king  of  France  everywhere  but  in  France. 
There  he  was  the  suffering  victim  of  a  series  of 
personal  privation  and  ill-usage,  such  as  -was  never, 
perhaps,  inflicted  upon  a  child  of  his  years,  even 
in  the  humblest  condition  of  life.  After  the  death 
of  the  King,  the  family  remained  together  in  the 
Queen’s  apartment,  but  under  increased  super- 


274  True  Stories  from  History. 

vision  and  jealousy.  The  only  indulgence  the 
prisoners  received  was  the  permission  to  put  on 
mourning.  When  the  Queen  saw  her  children 
thus  cladr  she  said, — “  My  poor  children,  you  will 
wear  it  long,  hut  I  forever/’  and  she  never  after 
left  her  own  prison-room,  even  to  take  the  air  for 
the  short  interval  allowed  them,  in  the  garden, 
because  she  could  not  hear  to  pass  the  door  of 
the  apartment  which  had  been  the  King’s. 

The  royal  prisoners  had  now  no  other'  attend¬ 
ants  but  a  low  man  of  the  name  of  Tison,  and  his 
wife,  who  had  been  originally  sent  to  the  Temple 
to  do  the  meaner  and  the  rougher  household 
work.  Their  conduct  at  first  had  been  decent, 
but  at  length  their  tempers  became  soured  by 
their  long  confinement  —  for  they  were  closely 
kept  from  seeing  those  without — and  especially 
from  being  suddenly  interdicted  from  receiving 
the  visits  of  their  daughter,  to  whom  they  were 
much  attached.  All  these  vexations  they  vented 
upon  their  unhappy  prisoners.  Tison  was,  more¬ 
over,  as  might  be  expected  from  the  selection  of 


The  Royal  Prisoners. 


275 


him  for  tlie  service  of  the  Temple,  a  zealous  re¬ 
publican.  lie  was,  therefore,  much  offended  with  t 

the  sympathy  which  several  of  the  municipals 
showed  for  the  captives,  and  denounced  them  for 
conveying  information  between  the  prisoners  and 
their  friends  without,  and  on  these  suspicions 
three  persons  were  subsequently  sent  to  the  guil¬ 
lotine. 

A  more  rigorous  set  of  Commissaries  were  now 
installed  by  the  infamous  Hubert,  and  the  Royal 
Family  were  subjected  by  them  to  new  interroga¬ 
tions,  searches,  privations  and  indignities.  Their 
condition  became  so  miserable  that  even  the 
Tisons  were  shocked  at  the  mischief  their  denun¬ 
ciations  had  wrought,  and  both  soon  showed  signs 
of  repentance,  especially  the  woman,  who  actually 
went  mad  from  anxiety  and  remorse.  She  began 
by  falling  into  a  deep  and  restless  melancholy,  ac¬ 
cusing  herself  of  the  crimes  she  had  witnessed, 
and  of  the  murders  which  she  foresaw,  of  the 
Queen,  Madame  Elizabeth,  and  the  Municipals 
who  had  been  implicated  by  their  accusations. 


276  True  Stories  from  IIistort. 

The  derangement  gradually  amounted  to  fury, 
and  she  was,  after  some  delay,  removed  to  a  mad¬ 
house.  One  of  the  strangest  vicissitudes  of  this 
long  tragedy  was,  that  while  the  unhappy  woman 
remained  in  the  Temple,  the  Queen  and  Madame 
Elizabeth  watched  over,  and  endeavored,  by  their 
charitable  care  and  consolations,  to  soothe  the  mal¬ 
ady  of  their  former  persecutor. 

It  was  about  this  time,  the  beginning  of  May, 
that  the  Dauphin  fell  sick,  and  the  Queen  solicited 
that  M.  Brunier,  his  ordinary  physician,  should  be 
allowed  to  attend  him.  The  Commissaries  for 
several  days  not  only  disregarded,  but  laughed  at 
this  request.  At  last  the  case  looked  more  serious, 
and  was  brought  before  the  Council  of  the  Com¬ 
mune,  where,  after  two  days  debate,  they  decreed 
that  it  would  be  contrary  to  the  principles  of  equal¬ 
ity  to  allow  him  any  other  doctor  than  the  one 
ordinarily  attached  to  the  prisons.  This  physician, 
M.  Thierry,  however,  acted  like  a  man  of  human¬ 
ity  and  honor.  He  secretly  consulted  M.  Brunier, 
who  was  acquainted  with  the  child’s  constitution, 


The  Royal  Prisoners.  277 


and  for  the  three  weeks  that  his  attendance  lasted, 
the  Queen  and  Madame  Elizabeth,  who  never  quit¬ 
ted  the  child’s  pillow,  had  every  reason  to  be  satis¬ 
fied  with  M.  Thierry. 

This  illness,  though  so  serious  that  his  sister, 
Maria  Theresa,  thought  he  had  never  entirely 
recovered  from  it,  made  no  noise,  and  excited  no 
interest  among  the  people,  for  all  other  interests 
were  at  the  moment  absorbed  in  the  great  struggle 
between  the  Jacobins  and  the  Girondists,  which 
ended  in  the  overthrow  of  the  latter  faction.  Hith¬ 
erto  the  Convention,  busy  with  its  internal  con¬ 
flicts,  had  left  the  Temple  to  the  discretion  of  the 
Commune.  But  now  it  interposed  directly,  and  a 
decree  of  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety  directed 
the  separation  of  the  Dauphin  from  his  mother, 
and  his  transfer  to  the  hands  of  a  tutor  to  be  chosen 
by  the  Municipals. 

It  was  ten  o’clock  at  night.  The  sick  child  was 
sleeping  in  the  uncurtained  bed,  over  which  his 
mother  had  hung  a  shawl  to  keep  from  his  eyes 
the  light  by  which  she  and  his  aunt  were  mending 


278  True  Stories  from  History. 

tlieir  clothes.  The  door  suddenly  opened,  with  a 
loud  crash  of  the  locks  and  bolts,  and  six  Commis¬ 
saries  entered,  one  of  them  abruptly  and  brutally 
announcing  the  decree  of  separation.  A  long  and 
most  painful  scene  ensued.  The  Queen  was  thrown 
into  an  agony  of  surprise,  terror,  and  grief.  She 
urged  all  that  maternal  tenderness  could  suggest, 
and  even  descended  to  the  humblest  prayers  and 
supplications  against  the  execution  of  such  an  un¬ 
natural  decree.  The  child  awoke  in  the  utmost 
alarm,  and  when  they  attempted  to  take  him  clung 
to  his  mother,  and  his  mother  clung  with  him  to 
the  posts  of  the  bed.  M.  de  Beauchesne  thus  de¬ 
scribes  the  end  of  the  struggle. 

“  At  last  one  of  the  Commissaries  said,  1  It  does 
not  become  us  to  fight  with  women,  call  up  the 
guard.’  Madame  Elizabeth  exclaimed,  ‘No,  for 
God’s  sake,  no !  we  submit,  we  cannot  resist,  but 
at  least  give  us  time  to  breathe,  let  the  child  sleep 
here  the  rest  of  the  night,  he  will  be  delivered  to 
you  to-morrow.’  No  answer.  The  Queen  then 
prayed  that  he  might  at  least  remain  in  the  Tower, 


The  Royal  Prisoners. 


where  she  might  still  see  him.  One  of  the  Com¬ 
missaries  answered  in  the  most  brutal  manner,  and 
tutoyani  the  Queen — ‘  We  have  no  account  to  give 
you,  and  it  is  not  for  you  to  question  the  intentions 
of  the  nation.  What!  you  make  such  a  to-do, 
because,  forsooth,  you  are  separated  from  your 
child,  while  our  children  are  sent  to  the  frontiers 
to  have  their  brains  knocked  out  by  the  bullets 
which  you  bring  upon  us.’  The  ladies  now  began 
to  dress  the  boy,  but  never  was  a  child  so  long  a 
dressing — every  article  was  successively  passed 
from  one  hand  to  another — put  on  and  taken  off, 
replaced  and  drenched  with  tears.  They  thus 
delayed  the  separation  by  a  few  minutes.  The 
Commissaries  began  to  lose  patience.  At  last  the 
Queen,  gathering  up  all  her  strength,  placed  her¬ 
self  in  a  chair,  with  the  child  standing  before  her, 
put  her  hands  on  his  little  shoulders,  and  without 
a  tear  or  a  sigh,  said,  with  a  grave  and  solemn 
voice — ‘  My  child,  we  are  about  to  part.  Bear  in 
mind  all  I  have  said  to  you  of  your  duties  when  I 
shall  be  no  longer  near  you  to  repeat  it.  Never 


280  True  Stories  from  History, 

forget  God,  who  thus  tries  . yon,  nor  your  mother, 
who  loves  you.  Be  good,  patient,  kind,  and  your 
father  will  look  down  from  heaven  and  hless  you.7 
Having  said  this,  she  kissed  him,  and  handed  him 
to  the  Commissaries,  .one  of  whom  said — 1  Come,  I 
hope  you  are  done  with  your  sermonizing — you 
have  taxed  our  patience  finely/  ‘You  might  have 
spared  your  lesson/  said  another,  who  dragged  the 
"boy  out  of  the  room,  A  third  added — ‘  Don’t  be 
uneasy — the  nation,  always  great  and  generous, 
will  take  care  of  his  education  /- — and  the  door 
closed.”  * 

That  same  night  the  young  King  was  handed 
over  to  the  tutelage  and  guardianship  of  the  noto¬ 
rious  Simon  and  his  wife,  whose  obscure  history 
forms  an  interesting  episode  in  the  story  of  the 
revolution. 

Anthony  Simon  at  this  time  was  nearly  sixty 
years  old.  He  was  aboye  the  middle  size,  stout 
built,  of  a  very  forbidding  countenance,  dark  com¬ 
plexion,  and  a  profusion  of  hair  and  whiskers ;  by 
*  Vol.  II.,  p.  71. 


The  Eotal  Prisoners.  281 


trade  a  shoemaker,  working  in  his  own  lodgings, 
which  happened  to  be  next  door  to  Marat,  in  the 
Rue  des  Cordeliers,  and  close  to  the  Club  of  the 
Cordeliers,  of  which  he  was  a  constant  attendant. 
This  neighborhood  had  inspired  him  with  an  out¬ 
rageous  degree  of  Civism,  and  procured  his  elec¬ 
tion  into  the  Commune,  whence  he  was  delegated 
to  be  Commissary  in  the  Temple.  There  the 
patronage  of  Marat,  his  own  zeal  in  harassing  the 
prisoners,  and  especially  his  activity  in  seconding 
the  denunciations  of  the  Tisons,  procured  him  the 
office  of  tutor  to  the  young  King. 

His  wife,  Mary  Jane  Aladame,  was  about  the 
same  age — very  short,  very  thick,  and  very  ill- 
favored.  Both  were  illiterate,  and  in  manners 
what  might  be  expected  in  such  people.  Their 
pay  for  the  guardianship  of  the  young  Capet  was — 
says  the  decree  of  the  Commune — to  be  the  same 
as  that  of  the  Tisons’  for  their  attendance  on  Capet 
senior,  500  francs  (about  one  hundred  dollars)  a 
month.  The  tutor  of  the  young  King  was  to  have 
the  same  wages  as  the  household  drudges  of  the 


2S2  True  Stories  from  History. 

whole  family.  They  were,  moreover,  subjected  to 
the  hard  conditions — Simon  of  never  losing  sight 
of  his  prisoner,  and  both  of  never  quitting  the 
Tower  for  a  moment,  on  any  pretext  whatever, 
without  special  permission,  which  was  only,  and 
rarely,  granted  to  the  wife. 

At  half-past  ten  on  the  night  we  have  just 
described,  the  young  King  and  his  guardians  were 
installed  in  the  apartment  of  the  Tower  which  had 
been  the  King’s,  his  father,  and  which  was  now 
additionally  strengthened,  and  rendered  still  more 
gloomy  and  uncomfortable,  for  the  custody  of  the 
son.  For  the  first  two  days  he  wept  incessantly, 
would  take  no  food,  refused  to  go  to  bed,  and 
never  spoke  but  to  call  for  his  mother.  He  could 
not  comprehend  his  position,  nor  why  he  was  so 
treated  ;  but  on  the  third  day,  hunger,  and  the 
threats  of  Simon,  reduced  him  to  a  kind  of  silent 
submission,  which,  however,  did  not  mitigate  the 
vexations  with  which  his  keeper  began  to  dis¬ 
cipline  him  into  what  he  called  equality ,  and  which 
the  poor  child  found  to  mean  nothing  but  the  most 


The  Royal  Prisoners. 


288 


degrading  servitude  to  liis  task-master.  Although 
the  child  was  so  ill  during  the  months  of  June  and 
July  as  to  be  under  medical  treatment,  yet  he  was 
beaten  by  his  inhuman  jailer  for  every  trifling 
offence.  But  even  this  did  not  subdue  him,  and 
he  continued  with  a  courage  and  intelligence  above 
his  age,  to  insist  on  being  restored  to  his  mother. 
But  this  only  jiroduced  new  violence,  and  new 
indignities  of  torture.  It  was  evidently  the  pur¬ 
pose  to  get  rid  of  him — either  to  put  him  to  such 
sufferings  as  should  wear  out  his  life,  or  else  to 
send  him  out  of  the  country,  meanwhile  wreaking 
upon  his  innocent  head  all  the  diabolical  malice 
which  tortured  their  own  hearts.  The  severity  of 
Simon,  therefore,  grew  more  savage,  and  every 
untoward  event  without,  among  his  own  friends 
and  patrons,  increased  his  fury.  He  compelled  the 
boy  to  wait  upon  him,  and  to  perform  the  most 
menial  tasks  of  drudgery.  On  one  point  only  the 
young  King’s  resistance  was  for  a  long  time  inflex¬ 
ible  :  he  would  not  wear  the  red  cap.  He  doubt¬ 
less  remembered  the  terrible  riots  of  the  year 


284  True  Stories  from  History. 


before,  when  he  was  forced  to  assume  this  badge 
of  republicanism,  and  he  stoutly  refused  now  to 
submit.  Iu  vain  Simon  scolded,  threatened,  and 
at  last  flogged  him  again ;  nothing  would  subdue 
him.  At  last  the  heart  of  the  woman  Simon 
melted,  and  she  persuaded  her  husband  to  give 
over  the  contest.  But  while  she  could  not  bear  to 
see  the  child  beaten,  she  was  willing  enough  that 
he  should  be  insulted  and  degraded  in  every  other 
way.  His  light  curling  ringlets  had  been  a  pecu¬ 
liar  delight  to  his  mother.  These  must  be  re¬ 
moved.  Madam  Simon  cut  them  close  all  round, 
and  this  seemed  to  disconcert  and  humble  him 
more  than  blows  or  anything  else  ;  so  that,  after 
awhile,  under  the  fresh  inflictions  of  Simon,  he 
was  brought  to  endure  the  red  cap  with  the  rest  ot 
the  hated  costume  of  his  enemies. 

In  the  meanwhile,  the  demoralization  of  the 
child  was  zealously  pursued  by  the  Simons.  He 
was  forced  to  drink,  taught  to  swear,  and  sing 
patriotic ,  that  is  to  say,  indecent  and  blasphemous 
songs.  The  most  rigorous  brutalities  were  in 


The  Eoyal  Prisoners. 


285 


flioted  upon  him.  Strictly  shut  up  iu  one  dark 
room,  with  no  distractions  or  amusements  what¬ 
ever,  he  had  become  so  pitiable  a  picture  of  lassi¬ 
tude  and  despondency,  that  one  of  the  persons 
employed  about  the  Tower  obtained  Simon’s  con¬ 
sent  to  his  having  an  artificial  canary-bird,  which, 
by  an  ingenious  mechanism,  fluttered  its  wings 
and  sung  a  tune.  lie  was  so  much  pleased  with 
this,  that  the  same  good-natured  suggestion  was 
made  as  to  some  real  canaries,  tamed  and  taught 
as  they  sometimes  are.  Still  more  gratified,  he 
made  an  affectionate  acquaintance  with  his  feath¬ 
ered  friends.  But  this  was  too  aristoeratical 
an  indulgence.  One  of  the  Commissaries  took 
offence  at  it — the  machine  and  the  living  favorites 
were  all  sent  away,  and  the  weeping  boy  was  left 
again  in  solitude,  or  still  worse,  the  company  of 
his  morose  and  savage  guardians,  who  never  spoke 
to  him  but  with  harshness  and  insult. 

In  the  midst  of  his  degradation  he  had  some 
memory,  or  perhaps  dreamed  of  his  former  feelings 
and  habits  of  piety.  Simon  detected  him  one  night 


286  True  Stories  from  History. 


kneeling  in  liis  becl,  with  bis  bands  joined,  and 
apparently  saying  bis  prayers.  Tbe  impious 
wretch  did  not  know  whether  tbe  child  was  awake 
or  asleep,  but  the  superstitious  attitude  threw  him 
into  an  extraordinary  fury.  He  seized  a  pitcher 
of  icy-cold  water,  and  flung  it  over  him,  exclaim¬ 
ing,  “I’ll  teach  you  to  say  your  Paternosters,  and 
to  get  up  in  the  night  like  a  Trappist He  struck 
him  on  the  face  with  his  iron-heeled  shoe,  and  was 
only  prevented  beating  him  still  more  severely  by 
the  interposition  of  his  wife.  The  child,  shivering 
and  sobbing,  endeavored  to  escape  from  the  wet 
mattrass  by  sitting  on  the  pillow,  but  Simon 
dragged  him  down,  and  stretched  him  on  the  bed, 
swimming  with  water,  and  covering  him  with  the 
wet  clothes,  forced  him  to  lie  in  that  state  till 
morning.  The  shock  and  suffering  endured  that 
night  seemed  to  have  a  permanent  and  enfeebling 
influence  both  on  his  mind  and  body.  It  entirely 
broke  down  his  spirit,  and  confirmed,  if  it  did  not 
produce,  the  lingering  malady  from  which  he  suf¬ 
fered  at  last  so  intensely. 


The  Royal  Prisoners.  287 


On  the  19th  of  January,  1794,  the  Simons  were 
removed  from  their  place  in  charge  of  the  Temple. 
On  taking  their  departure,  the  wife  said,  with  a 
tone  of  kindness, — “Farewell,  Capet:  I  know  not 
when  I  may  see  you  again.”  Simon  interrupted 
her  with  a  malediction  upon  the  poor  child,  whom 
he  addressed  with  some  of  his  peculiar  insulting 
epithets.  But  this  riddance  did  not  improve  his 
condition.  His  active  persecutors  were  gone,  but 
he  was  left  to  privations  worse  than  inflictions — to 
cold,  to  darkness,  solitary  confinement,  cruel  neglect 
and  filth,  to  a  regimen  which  even  the  strongest 
bodies  and  the  most  determined  spirits  have  been 
found  unable  to  endure.  He  was  confined  to  a 
single  room,  with  one  window,  close-barred,  Avliich 
admitted  only  a  small  degree  of  oblique  light,  and 
was  never  opened  for  ventilation.  Here  he  was  left 
to  himself,  seeing  no  one,  and  dreading  to  call,  or 
make  known  his  wants,  lest  his  persecutions  should 
be  increased.  II is  sister,  in  her  memoirs  of  these 
times,  has  drawn  a  horrible  and  yet  most  affecting 
picture  of  his  condition  and  sufferings.  She  says 


288  True  Stories  from  IIistort. 

“Unheard  of  and  -unexampled  barbarity!  to 
leave  an  unhappy  and  sickly  infant  of  eight  years 
old  in  a  great  room,  locked  and  bolted  in,  with  no 
other  resource  than  a  broken  bell,  which  he  never 
rang,  so  greatly  did  he  dread  the  people  whom  its 
sound  would  have  brought  to  him ;  he  preferred 
-wanting  anything  and  everything  to  calling  for  his 
persecutors.  His  bed  had  not  been  stirred  for  six 
months,  and  he  had  not  strength  to  make  it  him¬ 
self  ;  it  was  alive  with  bugs,  and  vermin  still  more 
disgusting.  Ilis  linen  and  his  person  were  covered 
with  them.  For  more  than  a  year  he  had  no 
change  of  shirt  or  stockings ;  every  kind  of  filth 
was  allowed  to  accumulate  about  him,  and  in  his 
room ;  and  during  all  that  period  nothing  of  that 
kind  had  been  removed.  His  window,  which  was 
locked  as  well  as  grated,  was  never  opened,  and 
the  infectious  smell  of  that  horrid  room  was  so 
dreadful  that  no  one  could  bear  it  for  a  moment. 
He  might,  indeed,  have  washed  himself,  for  he 
had  a  pitcher  of  water,  and  have  kept  himself 
somewhat  more  clean  than  he  did;  but,  over- 


The  Royal  Prisoners.  289 

whelmed  by  the  ill-treatment  be  bad  received,  be 
bad  not  resolution  to  do  so,  and  bis  illness  began, 
to  deprive  bim  of  even  tbe  necessary  strength.  He 
never  asked  for  anything,  so  great  was  bis  dread 
of  Simon  and  bis  other  keepers.  He  passed  bis 
da}'S  without  any  kind  of  occupation.  They  did 
not  even  allow  bim  light  in  tbe  evening.  This  sit¬ 
uation  affected  bis  mind  as  well  as  bis  body,  and  it 
is  not  surprising  that  be  should  have  fallen  into  a 
frightful  atrophy.  The  length  of  time  which  be 
resisted  this  persecution  proves  bow  good  bis  con¬ 
stitution  must  have  originally  been.”  * 

Tbe  fall  of  Robespierre,  on  tbe  28th  of  July, 
1794,  which  opened  tbe  prison  doors  of  so  many 
other  innocent  victims,  did  not  liberate  tbe  Dauphin 
and  bis  sister,  though  it  alleviated,  in  some  re¬ 
spects,  their  personal  sufferings.  A  single  guardian 
of  tbe  name  of  Laurent  took  tbe  place  of  tbe  Com¬ 
missaries  of  tbe  Commune.  He  was  a  man  of 
some  degree  of  education,  good  manners  and  hu¬ 
manity,  and  be  appealed  earnestly  to  tbe  govern - 


Royal  Mem.,  p.  256 
19 


290  True  Stories  from  Histort, 

mont  for  an  immediate  examination  into  the  con¬ 
dition  of  his  charge.  His  request  was  granted,, 
and  the  investigation  undertaken.  The  poor  child 
was  found  in  a  deplorable  state  of  filth,  disease, 
and  debility.  The  attendance  of  medical  men  was 
ordered  at  once,  and  something  was  done  for  his 
relief.  Air  and  light  were  admitted  into  his  room. 
He  was  washed  and  combed,  and  clad  in  clean 
garments.  An  iron  bedstead  and  clean  bedding 
were  supplied.  His  sores  were  dresssed,  and  after 
some  da3*s  he  was  removed,  on  the  recommenda¬ 
tion  of  his  physician,  into  another  room,  better 
lighted  and  ventilated.  Under  the  more  humane 
and  kindly  treatment  of  Laurent,  his  condition 
was  every  way  improved,  but  Laurent’s  tastes  and 
feelings  were  very  repugnant  to  his  duties  as 
gaoler,  and  he  therefore  solicited  that  his  resigna¬ 
tion  be  accepted.  The  Prince  in  parting  with  him 
pressed  his  hand  affectionately,  and  saw  his  de¬ 
parture  with  evident  sorrow,  but  does  not  seem 
to  have  spoken.  Indeed,  for  several  weeks  he  had 
scarcely,  if  at  all,  spoken  to  any  one,  and  when 


The  Royal  Prisoners. 


291 


Lasne,  the  successor  of  Laurent,  took  his  place  in 
the  Tower,  he  continued  as  mute  to  him  as  he  had 
been  to  others.  With  Lasne  the  Commune  had 
associated  a  man  of  the  name  of  Gomin,  and  they 
were  equally  responsible  for  the  safety  of  both  the 
prisoners,  though  the  latter  was  chiefly  in  attend- 
ance  upon  the  Princess.  Seeing  that  the  Prince’s 
health  was  rapidly  failing,  they  agreed  together  to 
inscribe  upon  the  register  of  the  proceedings  of  the 
Temple, — “  The  little  Capet  is  indisposed.”  ISTo 
notice  being  taken  of  this  entry,  they  repeated  it, 
in  a  day  or  two,  in  more  positive  terms, — “  The 
little  Capet  is  dangerously  ill.”  This  even  did  not 
gain  attention,  and  they  now  wrote  that  “  his  life 
is  in  danger.”  This  produced  an  order  for  the 
attendance  of  M.  Desault,  one  of  the  most  eminent 
physicians  of  Paris.  He  examined  the  child,  but 
could  not  obtain  a  word  from  him.  He  pro¬ 
nounced,  however,  that  he  was  called  in  too  late — 
that  the  case  had  become  scrofulous,  and  advised 
his  removal  to  the  country,  as  the  only  chance 
of  prolonging  his.  life.  The  Government  desired 


292  True  Stories  from  History. 

no  such  result,  and  paid  no  attention  to  the  ad¬ 
vice. 

Desault,  therefore,  ordered  such  remedies  and 
appliances  as  he  judged  most  promising  under  the 
circumstances.  His  treatment  continued  for  three 
weeks,  without  affecting  any  material  change  in  his 
condition,  when  Desault  suddenly  died.  A  death 
so  sudden,  and  at  such  a  critical  moment,  gave 
rise  to  a  thousand  conjectures,  the  most  general 
of  which  was  that  he  had  died  from  poison  ad¬ 
ministered  by  his  employers  in  order  to  conceal 
some  schemes  which  they  were  carrying  into  exe¬ 
cution. 

We  now  approach  the  closing  scenes  in  the  life 
of  this  child,  as  given  us  in  the  narrative  of  M. 
Beauchesne.  It  is  alleged,  however,  be  it  remem¬ 
bered,  that  this  was  not  the  Dauphin  who  died  in 
the  Temple,  but  that  another  child  was  substituted 
for  him,  while  he  was  conveyed  away  still  living. 
We  shall  investigate  this  question  when  we  come 
to  speak  of  the  claims  of  Mr.  Williams,  whose  ex¬ 
traordinary  history  is  so  singularly  identified 


The  Royal  Prisoners.  293 

with  that  of  Louis  XVII.  in  a  recent  American 
work.* 

His  physician,  Pelletan,  finding  him  so  much 
worse,  on  the  7th  of  June  had  a  consultation  with 
M.  Dumangin.  They  decided  that  there  were  no 
longer  any  hopes — that  art  could  do  nothing — and 
that  all  that  remained  was  to  mitigate  the  suffer¬ 
ings  of  this  lingering  death.  They  expressed  in¬ 
dignant  astonishment  at  the  solitude  and  neglect 
to  which  the  hoy  was  subjected  during  the  whole 
of  every  night  and  the  greater  part  of  every  day, 
and  insisted  upon  the  immediate  necessity  of  his 
being  provided  with  a  suitable  nurse.  The  Com¬ 
mittee  consented,  but  on  that  night  he  was  again 
locked  up  alone.  He  felt  it  more  than  usual,  and 
took  leave  of  Gomin  with  big  tears  running  down 
his  face,  saying, — “Still  alone,  and  my  mother  in 
that  other  tower.” 

It  was  the  last  night  of  the  poor  child’s  sufferings. 
The  next  day,  the  8th  of  June,  he  ceased  to  suffer. 

*  The  Lost  Prince,  <fcc.,  by  John  II.  Hanson.  Hew  York: 
G.  P.  Putnam  &  Co.,  1854. 


XI. 


®Ij.e  gaujjjmt  not  § . 

HOM  AS  DE  QUINCEY,  in  his  Autobiograph- 


ical  Sketches,  uses  the  following  language  on 
the  question  of  the  death  of  the  Dauphin,  as  de¬ 
tailed  in  history,  and  especially  in  the  wrork  of 
Beauchesne,  and  the  new  claims  then  recently  put 
forward  in  this  country : — 

“  A  new  and  most  extraordinary  interest  has 
begun  to  invest  his  (Louis  XVII.)  tragical  story  in 
this  very  month  of  April,  1858  ;  at  least,  it  is  now 
first  brought  before  universal  Christendom.  In 
the  monthly  journal  of  Putnam — published  in 
New  York — the  number  for  April  contains  a  most 
interesting  memoir  upon  the  subject,  signed  J.  H. 
Hanson.  Naturally,  it  indisposed  most  readers  to 
put  faith  in  any  fresh  pretensions  of  this  nature, 
that,  at  least,  one  false  Dauphin  had  been  pro- 


The  Dauphin  n-ot  Dead.  295 

trounced  such,  by  so  undeniable  a  judge  as  the 
Duchesse  d’Angouleme.  Meantime,  it  is  made 
probable  enough,  by  Mr.  Hanson,  that  the  true 
Dauphin  did  not  die  in  the  year  1 1 95,  at  the 
Temple,  but  was  personated  by  a  boy  unknown ; 
that  two  separate  parties  have  an  equal  interest  in 
sustaining  this  fraud,  and  did  sustain  it :  but  one 
would  hesitate  to  believe  whether,  at  the  price  of 
murdering  a  celebrated  physician;  that  they  had 
the  Prince  conveyed  secretly  to  an  Indian  settle¬ 
ment  in  Lower  Canada,  as  a  situation  in  which 
French  being  the  prevailing  language,  would  at¬ 
tract  no  attention,  as  it  must  have  done  in  most 
parts  of  North  America:  that  the  boy  was  edu¬ 
cated  and  trained  as  a  missionary  clergyman ;  and 
finally,  that  he  is  now  acting  in  that  capacity, 
under  the  name  of  Eleazar  Williams,  perfectly 
aware  of  the  royal  pretensions  put  forward  in  hra 
behalf;  but  equally,  through  age  (being  about 
sixty-nine)  and  through  absorption  in  spiritual 
views,  indifferent  to  these  pretensions.  It  is  ad¬ 
mitted.  on  all  hands,  that  the  Prince  do  Joinvilie 


298  True  Stories  from  History. 

had  an  interview  with  Eleazar  Williams  a  dozen 
years  since ;  the  Prince  alleges  through  mere  ac¬ 
cident,  hut  this  seems  improbable ;  and  Mr.  Han¬ 
son  is  likely  to  be  right  in  supposing  this  visit  to 
have  been  a  preconcerted  one,  growing  out  of 
some  anxiety  to  test  the  reports  current,  so  far  as 
they  were  grounded  upon  resemblances  in  Mr. 
Williams’  features  to  those  of  the  Bourbon  and 
Austrian  families.  Tho  most  pathetic  fact  is  that 
of  the  idiocy  common  to  the  Dauphin  and  Mr. 
Eleazar  Williams.  It  is  clear,  from  all  the  most 
authentic  accounts  of  the  young  Prince,  that 
idiocy  was,  in  reality,  stealing  over  him ;  due, 
doubtless,  to  the  stunning  nature  of  the  calamities 
that  overwhelmed  his  family  ;  to  the  removal  from 
him,  by  tragical  deaths,  in  so  rapid  succession,  of 
the  Princess  de  Lamballe,  of  his  aunt,  of  his  father, 
of  his  mother,  and  others  whom  he  most  had 
loved ;  to  his  cruel  separation  from  his  sister  ;  and 
to  the  astounding  (for  him  naturally  incompre¬ 
hensible)  change  that  had  come  over  the  demeanor 
and  the  language  of  nearly  all  the  people  placed 


The  Dauphin  not  Dead.  297 

about  the  persons  of  himself  and  his  family.  An 
idiocy  resulting  from  what  must  have  seemed  a 
causeless  and  demoniac  conspiracy,  would  be  more 
likely  to  melt  away  under  the  sudden  transfer  to 
kindness  and  the  gaiety  of  forest  life,  than*  any 
idiocy  belonging  to  original  organic  imbecility. 
Mr.  Williams  describes  his  own  confusion  of  mind 
as  continuing  up  to  his  fourteenth  year,  and  all 
things  which  had  happened,  in  earlier  years,  as 
gleaming  through  clouds  of  oblivion,  and  as  pain¬ 
fully  perplexing ;  but  otherwise,  he  shows  no  de¬ 
sire  to  strengthen  the  pretensions  made  for  him¬ 
self  by  any  reminiscences  piercing  these  clouds, 
that  could  point  specially  to  France,  or  to  royal 
experiences.”  * 

This  statement  suggests  the  substance  of  what 
we  shall  present  somewhat  more  in  detail,  in  a 
resume  of  the  evidence  which  Mr.  Hanson  has 
furnished,  with  great  fairness  and  ability,  in  his 
recently  published  work  entitled  the  Lost  Prince, 
&c. 


Autobiog.  Sketches,  i.  330. 


298  Tkue  Stories  from  History. 

It  is  fairly  demonstrated  that  Louis  XVII.  did 
not  die  in  the  Temple,  as  alleged,  hut  that  another 
child  was  substituted  for  him,  who  did  die  there 
on  the  8  th  of  June,  1795. 

Several  months  previous  to  this  date,  the  Con¬ 
vention  had  debated,  frequently  and  earnestly,  the 
question  what  should  be  done  with  the  royal  chil¬ 
dren.  While  the  young  King  remained  in  Paris,  it 
was  certain  that  the  royalists  would  not  acquiesce 
in  the  existing  order  of  things,  and  therefore  it 
was  proposed  that  he  should  be  sent  into  exile. 
Against  this  it  was  argued  that  if  he  were  exiled 
the  very  act  and  fact  of  his  expulsion  would  pre¬ 
pare  the  way  for  his  restoration  to  the  throne  of 
his  fathers.  Meanwhile,  a  secret  treaty  had  been 
made  with  Charette,  the  leader  of  the  army  in 
Vendee,  in  which  it  was  stipulated  by  the  govern¬ 
ment  that  the  Dauphin  and  his  sister  should  be 
surrendered  to  him,  and  the  day  agreed  upon  was 
the  18th  of  June. 

At  the  same  time  the  Duke  de  Provence — after- 
wards  Louis  XVIII. — the  uncle  of  the  Dauphin-  ■ 


The  Dauphin  not  Dead.  299 

who  had  proclaimed  himself  regent,  was  intrigu¬ 
ing,  in  every  way,  to  outwit,  the  Convention,  and 
prepare  the  way  for  his  own  accession  to  the 
throne.  For  this  purpose  he  had  spies  and  agents 
scattered  throughout  France,  and  busy  in  Paris, 
and  even  in  the  very  Tower  of  the  Temple.  Lasne 
and  Gomin,  the  guardians  of  the  children,  were 
undoubtedly  in  his  interests.  He,  too,  was  desirous 
of  getting  rid  of  the  Dauphin,  for  he  was  the  only 
obstacle  in  the  way  of  his  ambition.  But  neither 
he  nor  the  government  were  willing  to  imbue 
their  hands  in  his  innocent  blood,  if  the  object 
could  be  otherwise  attained.  The  theory  of  the 
escape  of  the  young  King  supposes,  therefore,  that 
the  Duke  de  Provence  had  secured  the  fidelity  of 
his  keepers,  and  the  appointment,  also,  of  such 
Commissaries  as  were  pledged  to  his  interests. 

In  pursuance  of  their  plans,  it  was  announced 
by  his  guardians  that  Louis  was  dangerously  ill, 
as  preparatory  to  the  report  of  his  death,  which 
was  to  cover  up  his  escape.  On  the  6th  of  May, 
Desault,  the  chief  surgeon  in  France,  and  most 


300  True  Stories  from  History. 

eminent  in  His  profession,  was  appointed  to  have 
the  care  of  the  Prince.  He  entered  upon  his 
duties,  and  made  an  examination  of  his  case.  He' 
found  that  in  consequence  of  his  long  confinement 
and  neglect  in  the  poisoned  atmosphere  and  horri¬ 
ble  filth  of  his  prison,  and  his  inhuman  treatment 
and  unwholesome  food,  tumors  were  formed  on 
both  his  knees,  both  his  wrists,  and  both  his 
elbows.  He  questioned  him,  but  was  unable  to 
obtain  any  answer. 

It  is  worthy  of  observation  that  the  mind  of  the 
Dauphin  was  so  enfeebled  by  suffering,  and  terror, 
and  privation,  that  he  ceased  to  notice  anything 
going  on  around  him  for  weeks  before  his  alleged 
death,  and  rarely,  if  ever,  spoke  to  any  one.  His 
sister,  who  derived  her  knowledge  from  Gomin, 
has  left  it  on  record  that  he  “  suffered  from  the 
effects  of  the  cruel  treatment  that  had  so  long  been 
exercised  towards  him,  and  showed  symptoms  of 
increasing  weakness.”  And  again,  that  “  the  hor¬ 
rible  treatment  of  which  he  was  the  victim,  gradu¬ 
ally  affected  his  mind,  and  even  had  he  lived  it 


The  Dauphin  not  Dead.  301 


is  probable  lie  never  would  have  recovered  from 
the  effects  of  it.”  Lamartine  says, — 11  They  had 
brutalized  him  not  only  to  dethrone  him,  but  to 
deprive  him  even  of  his  childish  innocence  and 
human  intelligence.”  In  a  word,  the  brutal  Si¬ 
mons  of  the  Temple  had  made  an  idiot  of  him. 

It  was  to  such  a  patient  that  Desault  was  called. 
There  is  no  evidence  that  he  considered  his  case 
hopeless,  or  even  dangerous,  under  proper  treat¬ 
ment.  Indeed,  it  is  clear  enough  that  he  thought 
otherwise.  He  ordered  simple  remedies,  and  as 
the  Duchess  d’Angouleme  says,  “  undertook  to 
cure  him.”  He  expressed  no  apprehensions  to  the 
Commissaries,  or  in  his  conversations  with  others. 
According  to  the  testimony  of  Beaucliesne,  De¬ 
sault’s  opinion  was  that  in  his  case  there  was  only 
a  germ  of  a  scrofulous  affection,  but  that  this  dis¬ 
ease  had  scarcely  affected  his  constitution,  or  shown 
any  violent  symptom,  and  that  the  swellings  on 
his  joints  were  not  scrofulous.  He  was  only  suffer¬ 
ing  from  confinement  and  bad  treatment,  and 
would  readily  recover  if  removed  to  the  country, 


302  True  Stories  from  History. 

where  he  could  enjoy  fresh  air,  and  wholesome 
exercise.  So  little  apprehension  or  anxiety  was 
felt  hy  his  physician  that  he  did  not  ask  a  con¬ 
sultation  with  any  other,  but  continued  his  simple 
treatment  through  the  month  of  May  up  to  the 
time  of  his  last  visit. 

About  the  first  of  June  a  new  actor  entered 
upon  the  scene,  and  M.  Desault  quitted  it  forever. 
He  died  suddenly,  and  it  was  said  by  poison.  His 
medical  pupil,  M.  Abeille,  believed  that  he  was 
taken  off  by  poison,  and  so  declared  his  conviction. 
As  the  appointed  physician  of  the  Dauphin,  know¬ 
ing  him  well,  and  warmly  attached  to  the  royal 
family,  his  knowledge,  and  character,  am1  fidelity 
would  be  inconveniently  in  the  way  of  such 
schemes  as  were  then  working  themselves  out 
under  the  management  of  the  Duke  de  Provence, 
and  very  opportune^,  therefore,  at  all  events,  he 
died  just  as  M.  Bellanger  made  his  appearance  on 
the  stage  where  this  strange  drama  was  enacting. 
This  man  was  an  artist,  and  had  been  employed 
by  the  Duke  de  Provence  to  design  and  paint  his 


The  Dauphin  not  Dead.  303 


cabinet.  He  was  introduced  into  the  Tower  and 
spent  a  day  with  the  young  King,  in  sketching  his 
likeness,  and  in  seeking  to  interest  and  amuse  him 
with  his  pictures.  What  else  occurred  on  that 
day,  and  how  and  when  M.  Bellanger  left  the 
Temple,  does  not  appear.  There  can  be  no  doubt, 
however,  but  that  Bellanger  was  the  agent  of  the 
Duke,  and  that  the  keepers  of  the  Tower  were  also 
in  his  interests,  and  that  within  and  without  the 
Temple  there  were  creatures,  and  confidants,  and 
spies  of  De  Provence,  rendering  it  not  only  possi¬ 
ble,  but  extremely  easy,  to  remove  the  Dauphin, 
and  leave  in  his  place  a  dying  child  of  about  his 
years,  and  of  nearly  similar  personal  appearance. 
There  is  every  probability  that  this  was  done,  and 
it  is  a  remarkable  and  significant  fact,  that  from 
the  31st  of  May,  the  day  Bellanger  spent  in  the 
Tower,  until  the  5th  of  June,  there  is  no  record  of 
anything  connected  with  the  Dauphin,  and  what 
transpired  in  his  prison.  On  the  last-mentioned 
day,  Pelletan  received  his  appointment  as  physician 
to  the  Dauphin,  and  on  his  first  visit  on  the  same 


304  True  Stories  from  History. 

evening,  lie  found  tlie  cliild  in  such  a  state  that  he 
immediately  demanded  a  consultation  with  some 
other  physician  who  might  share  with  him  the 
responsibility  of  the  case.  It  must  be  noted  that 
relletan  was  entirely  unacquainted  with  the  Dau¬ 
phin,  and  had  never  seen  him. 

In  the  meanwhile,  a  great  change  had  taken 
place  in  the  patient,  as  regards  his  mind  and  hab¬ 
its.  Desault  found  the  Dauphin  entirely  listless 
and  unobservant,  and  stupid  as  an  idiot,  and  it 
was  not  until  after  weeks  of  kind  attention  and 
many  efforts  to  win  him,  that  he  succeeded  in  gain¬ 
ing  from  him  the  slightest  notice.  But,  on  the 
contrary,  the  patient  whom  Pelletan  found  in  the 
Tower  appeared  lively  and  sociable,  and  began  to 
converse  with  him,  although  a  stranger,  without 
waiting  even  to  be  spoken  to.  This  child,  as  is 
evident  from  the  testimony  of  those  who  saw  him 
before  his  death,  as  well  as  from  the  Procts  Verbal 
of  his  physicians  who  made  the  post  mortem  exam¬ 
ination  of  the  body,  was  suffering  from  a  scrofu¬ 
lous  disease,  which  had  long  been  undermining 


The  Dauphin  not  Dead.  305 

his  constitution,  and  Lad,  beyond  all  doubt,  reached 
an  advanced  state  weeks  before,  when  Desault 
declared  that  in  the  case  of  the  Dauphin  there  was 
only  the  taint  of  scrofula,  and  that  it  had  not 
affected  the  constitution. 

On  the  8th  of  June  this  child  died.  Let  it  be 
noted  that  the  surgeons  who  made  the  post  mortem 
examination,  had  been  strangers  to  the  Dauphin 
hitherto,  and  unacquainted  with  his  person.  They 
could  not,  therefore,  certify  to  his  death,  nor  did 
they  assert  that  this  was  the  body  of  the  Dauphin. 
They  simply  examined  the  condition  of  the  body 
which  the}'  were  told  was  his,  and  made  a  declara¬ 
tion  as  to  the  state  in  which  they  found  it  as 
regards  the  disease  which  was  the  cause  of  death. 
The  only  documentary  evidence,  therefore,  of  the 
identity  of  the  body,  is  the  testimony  of  Lasne  and 
Gomin,  and  they,  beyond  doubt,  were  the  creatures 
of  the  Duke  de  Provence,  between  whom  and  the 
succession  to  the  throne  of  France  there  stood  only 
the  Dauphin. 

Having  shown  that  it  was  possible  to  effect  the 


30(>  True  Stories  from  History. 

removal  of  the  young  King,  and  to  place  a  dyings 
child  in  the  prison,  we  now  proceed  to  consider 
the  proofs  that  this  was  done. 

On  the  day  when  his  death  occurred  in  the 
Temple,  the  Committee  of  General  Safety  discov¬ 
ered  the  escape  of  the  Dauphin,  and  they  were 
then  employed  at  the  very  hour  that  the  child  was 
dying,  in  sending  out  agents  to  intercept  the  fugi¬ 
tives.  “  The  great  fact  of  the  escape  of  the  Dau¬ 
phin  from  the  Temple  is  well  established  by  the 
archives  of  the  police,,  where  is  still  preserved  the 
order  sent  out  to  the  departments  to  arrest,  ou 
every  high  road  in  France,  any  travellers  hearing 
with  them  a  child  of  eight  years  or  thereabouts,  as 
there  had  been  an  escape  of  royalists  from  the 
Temple.  This  order  bears  date  June  8,  1795,  the 
very  day  of  the  death  of  the  child  in  the  Temple.” 
In  obedience  to  this  order,  some  arrests  were  actu¬ 
ally  made,  but  no  Dauphin  was  discovered.  He 
had  been  carried  off  several  days  previously,  and 
thus  got  the  start  of  the  Committee  and  their 


couriers.. 


The  Dauphin  not  Dead.  307 

Another  significant  fact  going  to  prove  the  es¬ 
cape,  is,  that  after  the  accession  of  the  Duke  de 
Provence  to  the  throne  as  Louis  XVIII.,  and  the 
establishment  of  the  royal  family  in  Paris,  funeral 
honors  were  paid  to  the  memory  of  all  the  Bour¬ 
bons  who  had  perished  since  the  beginning  of  the 
revolution,  but  there  were  no  funeral  solemnities 
for  Louis  XVII.  The  remains  of  the  unfortunate 
Due  d’Enghein,  murdered  by  the  order  of  Napo¬ 
leon,  were  taken  from  the  moat  of  the  Chateau  of 
Vincennes,  and  placed  in  a  chapel  fitted  up  for  the 
purpose  by  the  Duchesse  d’Angouleme.  To  this 
chapel  she  went  once  a  week  to  pray  for  the  repose 
of  his  soul. 

Efforts  were  also  made  to  discover  the  remains 
of  Louis  XVI.,  and  Marie  Antoinette,  and  the  Prin¬ 
cess  Elizabeth.  They  had  been  buried  with  the 
indiscriminate  victims  who  fell  about  that  time,  in 
the  cemetery  of  the  Madeleine,  and  every  care  had 
been  taken  to  destroy  them,  and  prevent  their 
being  afterwards  exhumed  and  identified.  But 
some  remains  were  found  which  were  represented 


308  True  Stories  from  History. 

as  those  of  the  royal  personages,  and.  these  were 
publicly  and  solemnly  carried  to  St.  Denis,  and  yet 
nothing  was  done  to  honor  the  ashes,  and  conse¬ 
crate  the  memory  of  Louis  XVII.  The  child  that 
died  in  the  Temple  was  buried  in  a  well-known 
spot,  and  no  efforts  had  been  made  to  destroy  his 
remains,  as  in  other  cases,  or  to  prevent  their  iden¬ 
tification.  His  sister,  the  Duchesse  d’Angouleme, 
had  manifested  great  respect  and  affection  for  the 
ashes  of  her  cousin,  the  Due  d’Enghein,  and  it 
would  seem  probable  and  but  natural  that  she 
would  exhibit  at  least  as  much  affection  for  her 
brother,  the  innocent  and  suffering  child  who  had 
shared  her  captivity,  and  with  whom  she  had 
passed  through  such  memorable  scenes  of  anguish 
and  terror.  But  the  truth  is  that  the  Duchesse  did 
not  believe  that  he  died  in  the  Temple.  On  the 
contrary,  she  knew  that  he  escaped;  she  knew  he 
was  still  living,  as  she  afterwards  plainly  and  un¬ 
equivocally  declared. 

Nor  did  it  escape  notice  and  observation  at  the 
time,  that  this  omission  of  all  respect  to  the  mem- 


The  Dauphin  not  Dead.  309 

ory  of  the  Dauphin  was  remarkable  and  significant. 
The  public  Speculated  upon  the  fact,  and  it  was 
everywhere  talked  of  as  evidence  that  the  Dauphin 
was  living.  But  these  speculations  and  suspicions 
were  allayed  and  forgotten  by  the  stirring  events 
of  1815,  when  Napoleon  again  returned  to  France, 
and  the  Bourbons  were  forced  to  make  their  es¬ 
cape.  The  hundred  days  passed  however,  and 
Louis  XVIII.  entered  the  capital  once  more  in 
triumph.  When  public  affairs  had  again  become 
settled,  the  question  again  stirred  the  public  mind — 
why  has  nothing  been  done  to  honor  the  memory 
of  the  martyred  Dauphin?  Consequently,  a  law 
was  passed  by  the  two  Chambers,  providing  that  a 
monument  should  be  erected  in  the  name  of  the 
nation,  and  at  the  public  expense,  to  the  memory 
of  Louis  XVII.  A  royal  ordinance  was  issued  by 
the  King  for  the  erection  of  this  monument  in  the 
church  of  the  Madeleine,  and  a  distinguished 
sculptor  employed  to  furnish  the  design  and  exe¬ 
cute  it.  An  epitaph  was  also  prepared  to  be  in¬ 
scribed  upon  the  monument,  and  at  length  it 


810  True  Stories  from  History. 

seemed  tliat  tlie  young  King’s  sufferings  and  death 
were  to  be  appropriately  commemorated.  But, 
after  all  this,  the  law  was  not  carried  into  effect, 
no  monument  was  erected,  no  inscription  marked 
the  resting-place  of  the  Dauphin,  to  tell  to  the 
passer-by  the  virtues,  the  cruel  sufferings,  and  the 
lamented  death  of  Louis  XVII. 

It  has  been  stated  that  the  Duchesse  d’Angou- 
leme  knew  that  her  brother  had  escaped  from  the 
Temple,  and  was  still  living.  It  is  not  our  pur¬ 
pose  to  enter  into  the  details  of  the  evidence  which 
Mr.  Hanson  has  given.  For  them  we  refer  the 
reader  to  his  book.  But  it  may  be  here  stated 
that  in  the  affidavit  procured  from  Mrs.  Brown  of 
Hew  Orleans,  there  is  clear  evidence  that  the 
I>ucliesse  believed  and  knew  that  her  brother  was 
living  in  the  year  1806  or  1807.  Mrs.  Brown  was 
formerly  the  wife  of  Joseph  Deboit,  the  secretary 
to  the  Count  dArtois,  who,  at  one  period,  resided 
at  Holyrood  House,  in  Edinburgh.  In  conse¬ 
quence  of  the  situation  of  her  husband  in  the 
Bourbon  family,  Mrs.  Brown  knew  well,  and  inti- 


The  Dautein  :stot  Dead.  311 

“  tnately,  the  Duchesse  cl’  Angouleme.  Her  husband 
had  told  her  of  the  escape  of  the  Dauphin,  and 
that  he  was  still  living  in  America.  She,  there¬ 
fore,  “  asked  the  Duchesse  uer  opinion  respecting 
her  brother’s  fate.  The  Duchesse  replied  that  she 
knew  he  was  alive,  and  safe  in  America.” 

With  this  knowledge  on  the  part  of  his  sister, 
and  his  uncle,  the  King,  it  is  easy  to  reconcile  the 
otherwise  inexplicable  facts  just  narrated,  in  re¬ 
gard  to  the  refusal  and  neglect  to  pay  funeral 
honors  to  the  Dauphin,  and  to  erect  a  monument 
to  his  memory.  Everything  thus  far  ascertained 
from  the  public  and  private  history  of  the  times, 
leads  inevitably  tc  the  conclusion  that  the  Dauphin 
did  not  die,  as  alleged,  in  the  Temple,  but  that  he 
was  safely  carried  off 


XII. 


Jsttppn  b r 0 xt g I v t  to  $nunt», 

ihapr  Mi  I  Hams. 

T'JST  the  further  investigation  of  this  interesting 
■*"  historical  problem,  we  are  led  to  the  conclu¬ 
sion  that  Louis  XVII.,  after  his  removal  from  the 
Temple,  was  brought  over  to  this  country,  and 
by  the  very  Commissary,  M.  Bellanger,  who  was 
with  him  in  his  prison  one  day  about  the  first  of 
June,  endeavoring  to  interest  and  amuse  him  with 
his  drawings  which  he  had  carried  with  him  for 
that  purpose.  A  writer  in  Putnam’s  Monthly, — 
February,  1854 — says  : 

“  "We  do  not  claim  for  this  proposition  anything 
more  than  the  sum  of  probabilities  which  arise 
from  previous  and  subsequent  history.  From  the 
nature  of  the  transaction,  as  a  secret  mission,  we 
do  not  expect  to  find  the  name  of  the  ship,  or  a 


The  Dauphin  in  America.  313 

history  of  the  voyage,  or  a  publicly  authenticated 
record  of  the  names  of  the  persons  in  charge  of 
the  child.  What  is  certain  is,  that  the  ambitious 
and  unscrupulous  Duke  de  Provence  found  his 
brother,  Louis  XVI.,  and  the  Dauphin,  in  his  path 
to  the  throne  of  France ;  that  he  connived  at  the 
Revolution,  so  far  as  it  tended  to  remove  his 
brother  out  of  his  way ;  that,  without  authority 
of  law  or  precedent,  he  set  up  his  own  court,  and 
issued  his  proclamations  as  Regent,  after  his 
brother  was  beheaded  ;  that  the  Dauphin  was 
still  in  his  way ;  that  Desault,  the  most  emi¬ 
nent  physician  of  France,  had  been  in  attend¬ 
ance  on  the  Dauphin  for  nearly  the  whole  of  the 
month  of  May — and  let  it  be  known  that,  although 
he  found  the  Dauphin  suffering  under  mental  im¬ 
becility,  and  tumors  on  the  knees  and  Avrists,  as 
the  result  of  long  confinement  and  bad  treatment, 
he  did  not  consider  his  physical  constitution  essen¬ 
tially  impaired,  or  his  life  in  danger ;  that,  conse¬ 
quently,  it  was  naturally  expected  the  Dauphin 
would  be  restored  to  health  under  the  treatment 


814  True  Stories  from  History. 

of  Desault ;  tliat  Desault,  when  asked  one  day,  on 
leaving  Ins  patient,  if  he  thought  the  child  would 
die,  expressed  himself  in  a  low  voice,  that  he 
feared  there  were  those  who  wished  him  dead; 
that  Desault  died  on  the  81st  of  May,  in  a  myste¬ 
rious  manner,  and  that  Abeille,  his  pupil,  said  he 
was  poisoned ;  that  the  Duke  de  Provence  in¬ 
trigued  successfully  to  get  his  own  tools  in  and 
about  the  Temple,  till  they  had  possession  and 
control  of  the  person  of  the  Dauphin  ;  that  Bellan- 
ger,  his  employe  in  the  arts  of  painting  and  de¬ 
sign,  obtained  the  place  of  the  Commissary  of  the 
Temple,  under  the  Convention,  surrounded  by 
his  associates  in  and  outside  of  the  prison  ;  that  he 
was  alone  with  the  Dauphin  a  whole  day,  includ¬ 
ing  a  night,  seeking  and  succeeding  to  amuse  the 
child  with  specimens  of  his  art ;  and  that  on  the 
8th  of  June,  the  very 'day  when  the  child  in  the 
Temple  died,  the  whole  police  of  France  was  put- 
on  the  qui  vive,  by  order  of  agents  of  the  Conven¬ 
tion,  to  arrest  any  travellers  on  the  high  roads, 
bearing  a  child  with  them  of  eight  years  old  or 


The  Dauphin  in  America.  S15 

more,  as  some  of  the  royal  family  had  escaped 
from  the  Temple.” 

In  the  year  1795  a  French  family,  consisting  of 
a  gentleman,  lady,  and  two  children,  arrived  at 
Albany,  directly  from  France.  They  called  them¬ 
selves  De  Jardin,  or  De  Jourdan.  The.  man  and 
woman  were  not  considered  to  be  husband  and 
wife,  and  there  was  something  mysterious  in  re¬ 
gard  to  the  children,  who  were  kept  closely  in  the 
house,  and  never  taken  out  in  public.  The  girl 
was  the  elder,  and  was  called  Louise.  The  boy, 
some  nine  or  ten  years  of  age,  was  called  simply, 
Monsieur  Louis.  About  this  child  there  was 
something  peculiar.  On  one  occasion  a  lady  now 
living,  called  with  her  mother  on  Madame  de 
Jardin,  and  was  introduced  into  the  room  where 
the  children  were.  The  girl  was  affable,  and  lively, 
and  accessible,  while  the  boy  seemed  shy,  and 
silent,  paying  no  attention  to  the  others  who  were 
enjoying  themselves  together  after  the  manner  of 
children,  but  keeping  himself  aloof  from  them. 
The  lady  represented  herself  as  maid-of-honor  to 


316  True  Stories  from  History. 

Marie  Antoinette,  from  whom  slie  was  separated 
as  the  royal  family  were  going  to  their  prison  in 
the  Temple.  After  remaining  a  short  time  in 
Albany,  the  De  Jardins  suddenly  disappeared, 
leaving  no  clue  to  their  business  or  their  destina¬ 
tion. 

During  the  same  year  there  appeared  on  the 
hunting-grounds  of  the  Iroquois,  near  Lake  George, 
two  Frenchmen,  one  of  them  apparently  a  Eomish 
priest,  having  with  them  a  sickly  boy,  in  a  state  of 
mental  imbecility,  whom  they  left  among  the  In¬ 
dians.  An  aged  and  respectable  Indian  chief  now 
living,  was  present  when  this  occurred.  Being 
well  acquainted  with  the  French  language,  he  con¬ 
versed  with  these  strangers,  and  learned  that  the 
boy  was  born  in  France.  That  boy  was  adopted 
by  Thomas  Williams,  an  Iroquois  chief. 

In  addition  to  this,  there  are  several  minor  cir¬ 
cumstances  which,  taken  in  connection  with  other 
ascertained  facts,  go  to  show  that  the  Dauphin  was 
brought  to  this  country.  The  royal  family  of 
France  have  always  known  and  believed  this. 


The  Dauphin  in  America.  317 


Tlie  Duchesse  d’Angouleme  positively  declared  it 
to  the  wife  of  tlie  secretary  of  the  Count  d’ Artois, 
and  that  lady,  Mrs.  Brown,  has  repeatedly  men¬ 
tioned  it  during  the  last  fifteen  years,  in  speaking 
of  her  own  eventful  history.  In  the  year  1848,  a 
paragraph  appeared  in  a  southern  paper  to  the 
effect  that  an  aged  and  respectable  French  gentle¬ 
man  named  Bellanger  died  in  New  Orleans,  who 
made  the  disclosure  on  his  death-bed,  that  he  was 
the  person  who  aided  the  escape  of  the  Dauphin 
from  the  Temple,  that  he  brought  him  to  America 
and  placed  him  among  the  Indians,  b}'-  whom  he 
was  adopted,  and  that  this  person  was  now  living, 
and  known  as  Eleazar  Williams,  a  missionary 
among  the  Oneida  Indians.  This — if  the  story  be 
true — must  have  been  the  same  Bellanger  who  was 
admitted  into  the  Temple  as  a  Commissary  on  the 
1st  of  June,  and  who  was  also  spoken  of  by  the 
Duchesse  d’Angouleme  in  her  communications  on 
the  subject  with  Mrs.  Brown,  the  wife  of  the  secre¬ 
tary  of  the  Count  d’ Artois. 

And  this  brings  us  down  to  the  year  1841,  and 


318  True  Stories  from  History 

to  tlie  disclosures  which  were  made  to  Mr.  Wil¬ 
liams  on  this  subject,  by  the  Prince  de  Joinville. 
That  the  Prince  knew  of  the  existence,  and  posi¬ 
tion,  and  employments  of  Mr.  Williams  long  before 
his  interviews  with  him,  is  perfectly  evident.  He 
made  inquiries  for  him  and  about  him  in  New 
York  before  he  set  out  on  his  journey  westward, 
and  on  the  way,  and  especially  of  the  commander 
of  the  steamer  in  which  he  made  the  passage  from 
Buffalo. 

It  was  in  October,  1841,  that  Mr.  Williams  first 
met  the  Prince  de  Joinville.  He  was  then  on  his 
way  to  Green  Bay,  and  was  awaiting  at  Mackinac 
the  arrival  of  the  steamer  which  was  to  convey 
him  thither.  The  Prince  was  on  board  this  steam¬ 
er,  and  on  reaching  Mackinac  he  went  ashore,  with 
his  suite,  to  visit  some  natural  curiosities  in  the 
neighborhood.  While  waiting  for  the  return  of 
this  distinguished  party,  Captain  Shook,  the  com¬ 
mander  of  the  steamer,  told  Mr.  Williams  that  the 
Prince  had  been  making  inquiries  of  him  concern¬ 
ing  a  Bev.  Mr.  Williams.  After  they  were  all  on 


Tiie  Dauphin  in  America.  319 


board,  and  fairly  under  way  again,  the  Captain 
again  approached  Mr.  Williams,  and  said  to  him 
that  the  Prince  desired  to  become  acquainted  with 
him.  To  this  he  willingly  assented,  of  course,  and 
Captain  Shook  returned,  bringing  the  Prince  with 
him.  The  introduction  was  remarkable  in  that 
the  Prince  dc  Joinville  “  not  only  started  with  evi¬ 
dent  and  involuntary  surprise  when  he  saw  Mr. 
Williams,  but  there  was  a  great  agitation  in  his 
face  and  manner,  a  slight  paleness  and  a  quivering 
of  the  lip,”  which  was  remarked  at  the  time,  and 
which  was  noticed  both  by  Mr.  Williams  and 
Captain  Shook.  During  the  remainder  of  the  voy¬ 
age  the  attention  and  respect  shown  by  the  Prince 
to  the  humble  missionary,  seemed  to  be  noticed 
not  only  by  the  passengers,  but  also  by  the  attend¬ 
ants  of  the  Prince. 

Much  conversation  occurred  between  the  parties, 
and  filled  up  the  remaining  hours  of  the  passage, 
until  they  landed  at  Green  Bay.  The  conversation 
turned  chiefly  on  the  French  settlements  in  Amer¬ 
ica,  in  1  the  loss  of  the  French  possessions  in  Can- 


820  True  Stories  from  History. 


ada,  and  such  kindred  topics  in  which  the  Prince 
might  he  supposed  to  take  an  interest. 

On  their  arrival  at  Green  Bay,  the  Prince  re¬ 
quested  Mr.  Williams  to  give  him  a  private  inter¬ 
view,  as  he  had  some  matters  of  great  importance 
to  communicate  to  him.  Accordingly,  Mr.  Wil¬ 
liams  repaired  to  the  Prince’s  lodgings  in  the  even¬ 
ing,  and  was  received  by  him  alone.  He  then 
proceeded,  after  exacting  from  him  a  pledge  of 
secrecy,  to  make  the  disclosures  of  his  royal  birth, 
telling  him  that  he  was  the  son  of  Louis  XVI.  and 
Marie  Antoinette, — the  Dauphin, — the  King,  Louis 
XVII.  “  The  Prince  also  laid  before  him  a  docu¬ 
ment  for  his  signature,  the  purport  of  which  was  “a 
solemn  abdication  of  the  crown  of  France  in  favor 
of  Louis  Philippe,  by  Charles  Louis,  the  son  of 
Louis  XVI.,”  “  with  a  minute  specification,  in  legal 
phrascolog}r,  of  the  conditions,  and  considerations, 
and  provisos,  upon  which  the  abdication  was  made. 
These  conditions  were,  in  brief,  that  a  princely 
establishment  should  be  secured  to  him  either  in 
this  country  or  in  France  at  his  option,  and  that 


The  Dauphin  in  America.  321 

Louis  Philippe  would  pledge  himself  on  his  port, 
to  secure  the  restoration,  or  an  equivalent  for  it,  of 
all  the  private  property  of  the  royal  family  right¬ 
fully  belonging  to  him,  which  had  been  confiscated 
in  France  during  the  Revolution,  or  in  any  way 
got  into  other  hands.” 

Mr.  Williams’  decision,  after  long  and  painful 
consideration,  was  that  he  would  not  alienate  the 
rights  which  pertained  to  him  by  birth,  and  sacri¬ 
fice  the  interests  of  his  family  ;  and  he,  therefore, 
refused  to  put  his  name  to  the  document. 

The  mission  of  the  Prince  de  Joinville,  by  what¬ 
ever  motives  or  policy  it  was  prompted,  failed ;  and 
when  the  account  of  his  overtures  was  made  pub¬ 
lic,  it  would,  of  course,  be  denied.  There  were  no 
witnesses — the  interview  was  private — the  docu¬ 
ment  was  retained  in  the  hands  of  the  Prince,  and 
there  were  no  means  by  which  Mr.  Williams  could 
verify  the  statements  which  he  had  made.  As 
might  have  been  expected,  the  Prince  did  deny 
the  account  when  it  reached  him  ;  but  with  a  lack 

of  wisdom  and  foresight,  he  said  too  much  in  his 

21 


322  True  Stories  from  Bistort. 


denial,  and  several  witnesses  of  most  credible  char¬ 
acter  came  forward  and  impeached  his  statements. 
They  proved  that  he  not  only  stated  what  was 
false,  but  what  he  knew  to  be  untrue.  And  the- 
consequence  has  been,  that  his  denial  has  served  to- 
strengthen  the  claims  of  Mr.  Williams.  Like  the- 
work  of  Beauchesne,  which  was  designed  to  prove- 
the  death  of  the  Dauphin  in  the  Temple,  and 
which,  by  proving  too  much,  made  it  certain  that 
he  did  not  die  there,  but  escaped,  so  the  Prince  de 
Joinville’s  denial  of  the  statements  of  Mr.  Wil¬ 
liams  as  to  what  took  place  between  them  at  their 
interview  at  Green  Bay,  renders  it  more  probable, 
if  not  absolutely  certain,  that  what  Mr.  Williams 
says  is  entirely  true. 

Now  let  us  add  to  this,  other  facts  which  have 
been  discovered,  having  a  bearing  upon  this  ques¬ 
tion  of  the  identity  of  Mr.  Williams  and  Louis 
XYII.  Mrs.  Brown  of  New  Orleans,  for  several 
years  an  inmate  of  the  royal  family  in  their  exile, 
and  intimate  with  the  Buchesse  d’Angouleme,  tes¬ 
tifies  that  in  the  year  1817,  she  was  living  in  the- 


The  Dauphin  in  America.  323 


same  house  with  Mrs.  Chamberlaw,  wife  to  the 
Secretary  of  the  Count  de  Coigny,  who  had  lived 
with  the  Count  de  Provence  during  his  residence 
in  Edinburgh.  Mrs.  Chamberlaw  told  her  that 
some  time  before,  she  had  heard  in  the  Tuilcrics 
that  the  Dauphin  was  alive,  that  a  man  named 
Bellanger  had  carried  him  to  Philadelphia,  and 
that  he  was  then  known  by  the  name  of  Williams. 
She  adds,  that  she  thinks  that  the  Christian  name 
was  Eleazar.  Mrs.  Chamberlaw  also  told  her  that 
Williams  was  a  missionary  among  the  Indians, 
and  that  the  royal  family  said  he  was  incompetent 
to  reign,  and  his  accession  to  the  throne  would 
only  complicate  the  difficulties  of  the  times,  and 
prejudice,  still  more,  the  interests  of  the  Bourbons. 

Again,  Mr.  George  Sumner,  a  brother  of  the  United 
States  Senator  from  Massachusetts,  happened  to 
meet,  in  the  year  1846,  at  Brest,  one  of  the  officers 
who  was  in  the  suite  of  the  Prince  de  Joinville, 
during  his  visit  to  Green  Bay.  The  conversation 
turning  upon  that  visit,  he  told  Mr.  Sumner,  look¬ 
ing  cautiously  round,  as  he  spoke, — “that  there 


324  True  Stories  from  History. 


ivas  something  very  singular  in  the  American  trip 
of  the  Prince,  who  went  out  of  his  way  to  meet  an 
old  man  among  the  Indians,  who  had  very  much 
of  a  Bourbon  aspect,  and  who  was  spoken  of  as 
the  son  of  Louis  XVI.” 

There  is  another  fact  which  has  a  bearing  upon 
this  problem,  and  that  is  that  an  affidavit  was  pro¬ 
cured,  in  March  1853,  from  the  reputed  Indian 
mother  of  Mr.  Williams,  in  which  she  is  repre¬ 
sented  as  testifying  that  he  is  her  son,  and  that 
she  knows  his  pretensions  to  be  the  Dauphin  are 
false.  This  affidavit  was  procured  by  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Marcoux,  a  Romish  priest  at  St.  Regis,  where 
Mrs.  Williams  resides.  He  acted  as  interpreter — 
she  not  understanding  English — and  put  the  ques¬ 
tions  to  her  in  the  Indian  language,  and  then  trans¬ 
lated  them  into  the  English.  Subsequently  to  the 
making  of  this  affidavit,  which  was  sent  to  France, 
and  thence  transmitted  to  this  country,  and  pub¬ 
lished,  she  was  again  called  upon  by  a  friend  of 
Mr.  Hanson’s,  and  she  then  denied  the  main  state¬ 
ments  of  her  former  affidavit,  and  declared  that 


The  Dauphin  in  America.  325 

she  was  not  his  mother,  but  that  Eleazar  Williams 
was  her  adopted  son ,  and  that  the  priest,  Marcoux, 
had  falsified  her  statement, — that  he  had  put 
words  into  her  mouth  which  she  never  uttered, — 
and  thus  demonstrating  that — for  some  reason  or 
another — there  were  parties  interested  in  opposing 
the  claims  of  Mr.  Williams.  The  crime  of  which 
Marcoux  was  guilty  is  subornation  of  perjury ,  and 
for  a  crime  of  such  blackness  there  must  have 
been  a  motive. 

But  aside  from  this  kind  of  testimony,  there  are 
certain  personal  marks  and  evidences  about  Mr. 
Williams  which  correspond,  in  a  wonderful  man¬ 
ner,  with  what  the  Dauphin  must  exhibit,  if  alive. 
He  is  evidently  not  an  Indian,  or  of  Indian  blood. 
Personal  examinations  made  by  our  most  distin¬ 
guished  physicians,  prove  this.  As  evidently  he 
is  of  European  descent,  and  French.  He  bears  a 
striking  resemblance  to  the  Bourbon  family,  as 
testified  by  artists,  and  others  familiar  with  the 
pictures  of  that  family.  The  formation  of  the 
lower  jaw,  and  ears,  the  shape  of  the  nose,  the 


I 


826  True  Stories  from  History. 

color  of  file  eyes,  tlie  neck  and  head, — in  fine,  the 
whole  person  of  Mr.  Williams  answers  exactly, 
and  in  minute  particulars,  to  the  features  and  form 
which  must  have  belonged  to  the  Dauphin,  if  he 
grew  to  the  stature  of  manhood.  The  Chevalier 
Fagnani,  who  was  personalty  acquainted  with  the 
Sicilian  and  Spanish  Bourbons,  who  are  closely 
allied  with  those  of  France,  and  of  whom  he  has 
painted  no  less  than  ten  portraits,  bears  the  follow¬ 
ing  testimony : — 

“  When  I  first  saw  Mr.  Williams,  I  was  more 
particularly  impressed  with  his  resemblance  to  the 
portraits  of  Louis  XYI.  and  XVIII.,  and  the  gen¬ 
eral  Bourbonic  outline  of  his  face  and  head.  As 
I  conversed  with  him,  I  noticed  several  physiog¬ 
nomical  details,  which  rendered  the  resemblance 
to  the  family  more  striking.  The  upper  part  of 
his  face  is  decidedly  of  a  Bourbon  cast,  while  the 
mouth  and  lower  part  resemble  the  house  of 
Hapsburg.  I  also  observed,  to  my  surprise,  that 
many  of  his  gestures  wrnre  similar  to  those  peculiar 
to  the  Bourbon  race.” 


The  Dauphin  in  America.  827 

There  are  other  marks  about  the  person  of  Mr, 
Williams,  such  as  scars  on  his  knees,  wrists,  and 
^elbows,  and  over  his  left  eye,  and  inoculation 
marks  on  his  arm,  which  tend  to  identify  him  Avitli 
the  Dauphin. 

But  as  it  is  not  our  purpose  to  go  over  the 
whole  ground  of  argument,  but  simply  to  indicate 
its  range  and  extent,  with  the  expectation  that  the 
reader  will  seek  fuller  information  in  the  book  of 
Mr.  Hanson,  Ave  shall  leave  the  subject  here,  not, 
‘"however,  without  expressing  our  interest  in  this 
great  problem,  and  our  belief  that  enough  has 
already  been  shown  of  the  claims  of  Mr.  Williams, 
in  the  book  to  Avhich  we  are  indebted  for  this  in¬ 
formation,  to  make  it,  at  least,  highly  probable 
that  in  the  person  of  the  Rev.  Eleazar  Williams 
exists  Louis  XVII. 


XIII. 


CjrarlfftU  oD jo r tr a g , 


S  the  tide  of  Revolution  rolled  on,  wildly 


sweeping  away  the  last  vestiges  of  social  or¬ 
der  and  security,  it  happened  that  the  ascendency 
was  acquired  by  Marat,  as  the  influence  of  the 
other  leaders  declined,  and  power  and  place 
passed  over  from  one  faction  to  another.  The 
estimate  which  Marat  placed  upon  himself  and  the 
motives  by  which  he  was  governed  in  the  head¬ 
long  career  of  madness  and  carnage  whose  end 
was  steeped  in  his  own  blood — appears  in  the  fol¬ 
lowing  address  of  his  which  was  published  in  the 
“  Friend  of  the  People”  : — 

“  I  pray  my  readers  to  pardon  me  if  I  speak  to¬ 
day  of  myself,  for  it  is  neither  through  vanity  nor 
fatuity,  but  a  desire  of  being  more  serviceable  to 
the  public  welfare.  How  can  it  be  a  crime  in  me 


Charlotte  Corday. 


329 


to  show  myself  in  my  true  colors,  when  the  ene¬ 
mies  of  liberty  unceasingly  represent  me  as  a  mad¬ 
man,  a  cannibal,  a  tiger  thirsting  for  blood,  in 
order  to  prevent  my  doing  good  ?  Born  with  a 
sensitive  heart,  a  fiery  imagination,  a  frank  and 
impetuous  character,  a  right  mind,  a  heart  that 
eagerly  drank  in  all  exalted  passions,  especially 
the  love  of  glory ;  brought  up  in  my  father’s 
house  with  the  tenderest  care,  I  arrived  at  man¬ 
hood  without  having  ever  abandoned  myself  to 
the  fury  of  my  passions.  At  twenty-one  years  of 
age  I  was  pure,  and  had  long  given  myself  up  to 
study  and  meditation. 

“  I  owe  to  nature  the  stamp  of  my  character, 
but  it  is  to  my  mother  I  owe  the  development  of 
my  character ;  and  she  it  was  who  implanted  in 
my  heart  the  love  of  justice  and  humanity.  All 
the  alms  she  bestowed  on  the  poor  passed  through 
my  hands,  and  the  accent  of  interest  with  which 
she  addressed  them  inspired  me,  at  an  early  age, 
with  pity  equal  to  her  own.  At  eight  years  of 
age,  I  could  not  bear  the  sight  of  any  ill-treatment 


330  True  Stories  from  History. 

exercised  towards  any  of  my  fellow  creatures,  and 
the  sight  of  cruelty  and  injustice  excited  my  anger 
as  though  it  had  been  a  personal  outrage. 

“During  my  early  youth  my  body  was  feeble; 
and  I  never  knew  the  joy,  the  heedlessness,  or  the 
sports  of  children.  Docile  and  studious,  my  mas¬ 
ters  obtained  everything  from  me  by  kindness  ;  I 
never  was  punished  but  once,  I  was  then  eleven 
years  of  age;  the  punishment  was  unjust.  I  had 
been  shut  up  in  my  room  ;  I  opened  the  window 
and  sprang  out  into  the  street. 

“  At  this  age  the  love  of  glory  was  my  principal 
passion.  At  five  years  I  should  have  wished  to 
be  a  schoolmaster  ;  at  fifteen,  a  professor  ;  at  eigh¬ 
teen,  an  author ;  at  twenty,  a  creative  genius ;  as 
I  now  am  ambitious  of  the  glory  of  immolating 
myself  for  my  country.  Thoughtful  from  my 
youth,  mental  labor  has  become  my  only  want, 
even  during  illness.  My  choicest  pleasures  have 
been  found  in  meditation ;  in  those  peaceful  mo¬ 
ments  when  the  mind  contemplates  with  admira¬ 
tion  the  spectacle  of  the  heavens,  or  when  it  seems 


Charlotte  Corday. 


331 


to  listen  in  silence,  and  weigh  in  the  balance  the 
real  felicity  of  the  vanity  of  human  grandeur, 
pierce  the  sombre  future,  inquire  the  fate  of  man 
beyond  the  tomb,  and  consider  with  restless  curi¬ 
osity  eternal  destiny.  I  have  passed  five-and- 
twenty  years  in  retirement  and  in  the  perusal  and 
consideration  of  the  best  authors,  on  morals,  phi¬ 
losophy,  and  policy,  in  order  to  deduce  the  wisest 
conclusions.  In  eight  volumes  of  metaphysics, 
twenty  of  physical  sciences,  I  have  been  actuated 
by  a  sincere  desire  of  being  useful  to  humanity  ;  a 
holy  respect  for  the  truth,  and  the  knowledge  of 
how  limited  is  human  wisdom.  The  quacks  of 
the  Corps  Scientijique,  d’Alembert,  Condorcet,  La 
Place,  Lalande,  Monge,  Lavoisier  wish  to  be  alone, 
and  I  could  not  even  pronounce  the  titles  of  my 
works.  During  five  years  I  groaned  beneath  this 
cowardly  oppression,  when  the  Revolution  an¬ 
nounced  herself  by  the  Convocation  of  the  States 
General.  I  soon  saw  whither  things  were  tending, 
and  I  began  to  entertain  the  hope  of  at  length 
beholding  humanity  avenged,  of  aiding  in  burst- 


882  True  Stories  prom  History. 


ing  her  fetters,  and  of  mounting  to  my  right 
place. 

“  This  was  hut  a  bright  dream,  and  it  was  ready 
to  dissipate.  A  cruel  illness  threatened  to  hurry 
me  to  the  tomb;  but  unwilling  to  quit  this  life 
without  having  done  something  for  humanity,  I 
composed  on  my  bed  of  pain  the  Offering  to  the 
People.  Restored  to  health,  I  only  thought  how  I 
could  be  useful  to  the  cause  of  freedom ;  and  y^et 
they  accuse  me  of  having  sold  myself, — I  who 
could  amass  millions  by  merely  selling  my  silence, 
and  I  am  in  poverty  and  want.” 

There  is  something  mournful  in  the  spectacle  of 
a  man  influenced,  perverted  and  misled  by  a  supe¬ 
rior  intellect,  and  his  restless  energies  and  activ¬ 
ities  employed  under  such  domination,  in  the 
work  of  mischief.  It  is  sad  enough  Avhen  an 
honest,  but  insane  fanaticism  impels  a  man  to 
deeds  of  injustice  or  cruelty.  But  when  we  see 
the  leader — the  master-mind,  —  the  controlling 
spirit  and  impulse  of  a  revolution  in  which  car¬ 
nage,  and  lust,  and  every  crime  are  let  loose  upon 


Chaklotte  Corday. 


333 


society,  then  our  feelings  are  not  of  pity  and  com¬ 
passionate  sympathy  but  of  indignant  and  out¬ 
raged  humanity.  The  emotion  of  sorrow  and  pity 
passes  away  into  the  feeling  of  contempt  and  hor¬ 
ror.  We  cease  to  compassionate;  we  learn  to 
feel  the  impulse  of  revenge,  the  deep,  stern  passion 
of  hate. 

Such  a  monster  of  crime  was  Marat.  His  life 
was  humble  and  laborious,  and  his  poverty  was 
real,  his  daily  subsistence  depending  upon  his 
writing.  Unceasing  mental  exertion  carried  on 
through  the  day,  and  a  large  portion  of  the  night, 
ill  health,  restless  activities,  a  demoniac  hatred  of 
the  existing  order  of  society,  and  a  boundless  am¬ 
bition  to  rule, — all  these  kept  his  mind  in  a  per¬ 
petual  fever  of  unrest,  and  inflamed  his  blood  to 
such  a  pitch  that  nothing  but  the  flowing  blood  of 
those  he  accounted  enemies  could  cool  its  raging 
fires.  His  ill  health  frequently  kept  him  con¬ 
fined  to  his  bed,  but  even  there  he  was  constantly 
and  eagerly  working  onwards  to  the  end.  He 
wrote  with  great  facility  and  rapidity,  and  his  in- 


334  True  Stories  from  History. 

flammatory  addresses  and  appeals  were  printed, 
scattered,  and  posted  throughout  Paris.  He  had 
no  repose,  no  intervals  of  relaxation,  no  seasons, 
and  no  disposition  for  calm  reflection,  when  he 
might  weigh,  and  consider,  and  balance,  one 
against  the  other,  the  great  principles  and  interests 
which  formed  the  subjects  of  discussion  and  the 
themes  of  the  addresses  and  exciting  appeals  which 
were  daily  issuing  from  the  obscure  and  dilapidat¬ 
ed  house  in  the  Bue  des  Cordeliers,  where  he  had 
his  lodgings.  He  lived  amidst  the  maddened  and 
maddening  excitements  of  that  era  of  the  revolu¬ 
tion  in  which  the  riot  of  accusation,  denouncement, 
and  carnage  was  most  horrible. 

While  Paris  was  thus  agitated  with  the  convul¬ 
sions  and  horrors  of  a  new  revolution  which  threat¬ 
ened  to  overturn  the  republic,  as  the  monarchy 
had  been  crushed  and  swept  away,  there  rvas  liv¬ 
ing  at  Caen,  in  Hormandy,  a  3'oung  girl,  the 
grand-daughter  of  the  poet  Corneille,  who  was  des¬ 
tined,  by  Providence,  to  change  the  current  of  the 
revolution  by  interposing  her  own  feeble  arm  and 


Charlotte  Corday. 


335 

her  young  life  among  the  events  and  agencies 
which  were  then  sweeping  onwards  everything  in 
France,  as  the  floating  drift  is  carried  onwards  by 
the  flood. 

The  city  of  Caen,  the  capital  of  the  province, 
was  at  this  time  the  head-quarters  and  the  chief 
gathering-place  of  the  Girondist  party  in  Norman¬ 
dy.  The  struggle  of  the  Girondists  in  the  Con¬ 
vention  had  exhibited  on  their  part  a  daring 
courage  and  constancy,  as  well  as  wonderful  elo¬ 
quence.  The  Jacobins  were  employing  every 
energy  to  gain  the  ascendency  in  order  to  precip¬ 
itate  the  country  into  deeper  anarchy  and  bloodier 
carnage.  The  struggle  was  mighty  and  convul¬ 
sive.  The  deputies  in  the  Convention  were  over¬ 
awed  by  the  mob  of  the  faubourgs,  and  the  legal 
sovereignty  of  the  nation  displaced  by  the  tyranny 
of  the  multitude  intoxicated  with  excess  of  riot 
and  blood.  Denunciations  and  arbitrary  imprison¬ 
ments  —  assassinations  and  conspiracies  —  insur¬ 
rections  and  public  executions — it  was  by  such 
outrages  as  these  that  Paris  was  wrenched  and  dis* 


336  True  Stories  from  History*. 


tracted,  while  the  distant  provinces,  also,  felt  the 
impulse  in  every  social  interest,  and  on  every 
sacred  hearth.  The  Girondists  were  expelled  from 
the  Assembly.  Several  of  their  prominent  leaders 
had  been  made  victims,  and  the  very  “dregs  and 
leprosy  of  the  people  ”  were  in  the  ascendant.  Se¬ 
dition  was  victorious  over  the  laws,  and  there  was 
not  enough  of  the  power  of  virtue  and  patriotism 
remaining  to  punish  the  wrong  and  protect  the 
right.  It  was  a  horrid  reign  of  anarchy,  spolia¬ 
tion,  and  assassination,  which  threatened  to  sweep 
away  all  independence,  property,  liberty  and  life, 
not  only  at  the  capital,  but  in  the  provinces. 

This  state  of  things  at  Paris  had  made  Nor¬ 
mandy  and  the  city  of  Caen  the  gathering-place  of 
the  proscribed  and  fugitive  deputies.  Here  they 
appealed  to  liberty  against  oppression,  and  by 
their  remonstrances  and  protestations  they  had 
enkindled  the  enthusiasm  and  indignation  of  the 
people  to  such  an  extent  that  the  name  of  Marat 
had  become  synonymous  with  every  crime,  and 
could  not  be  mentioned  without  the  deepest  and 


Cha.r lotte  Cop. dat.  837 

most  earnest  expressions  of  execration  and  hor¬ 
ror. 

Before  the  fall  of  the  King,  Louis  XVI.,  the* 
city  of  Rouen  had  offered  him  an  asylum  from  his 
enemies.  The  interests  of  all  this  portion  of 
France  being  commercial  and  agricultural,  natu¬ 
rally  induced  the -people  to  desire  peace,  and  the 
establishment  of  the  government  on  such  a  basis 
as  would  secure  liberty  and  the  preservation  of  the 
rights  of  the  people,  and  thereby  prosperity.  Be¬ 
sides,  they  were  attached  to  Louis  XVI.,  and  his 
execution  had  saddened  and  grieved  them,  as  well 
as  outraged  their  conception  of  justice  and  human¬ 
ity.  lienee  it  was  that  they  received  the  Girond¬ 
ists  with  so  much  favor  and  consideration,  and 
ardently  wished  the  restoration  of  that  influence 
and  control  at  which  the  Girondists  were  aiming. 

The  Girondists  in  Caen  were  living  together  in 
the  old  palace  which  had  been  the  hall  of  the  fed¬ 
eralist  government.  Here  they  collected  assem¬ 
blies  of  the  people,  including  even  the  women,  and 

addressed  them  in  eloquent  appeals,  exciting  them 
29 


338  True  Stories  from  History. 


to  avenge  the  murder  of  those  brave  men  who  bad 
fallen  victims  to  the  opposing  faction, — the  heroes 
of  the  Gironde, — the  martyrs  of  liberty.  Among 
the  women  who  ventured  to  be  present  at  these 
meetings,  was  Charlotte  Corday,  who  listened  to 
their  harangues  in  silence,  but  evidently  with  in¬ 
creasing  interest  and  enthusiasm,. 

The  father  •  of  this  young  girl  was  Francois  de 
Corday  d’Armont,  a  country  gentlemen  of  good 
family  but  poor.  By  birth  and  education  he 
ranked  with  the  nobility,  but  his  poverty  reduced 
him  to  the  condition  of  the  peasant.  Like  most 
persons  in  his  situation,  he  had  a  certain  pride  of 
birth,  and  reverence  for  the  family  name,  while  he 
entertained  a  hope,  or  a  vague  expectation  that  in 
some  way  he  might  regain  fortune,  and  so  recover 
the  position  in  society  to  which  his  rank  entitled 
him.  He  was  the  possessor  of  a  small  domain 
which  could  not  be  alienated  from  his  family,  and 
from  which  he  gained,  with  some,  difficulty,  a  toler¬ 
able  subsistence  for  those  who  were  dependent  upon 
him.  In  addition  to  his  agricultural  occupations, 


Charlotte  Cobdat.  339 

lie  cultivated,  to  some  extent,  his  taste  for  litera¬ 
ture,  and  devoted  a  very  considerable  portion  of 
bis  time  and  attention  to  politics.  His  condition 
of  poverty  and  inaction  made  bim  an  earnest  revo- 
lutipnist.  Weary  of  tbe  superstitions  and  bypoc- 
ricies  of  those  who  professed  to  be  religious,  and 
especially  of  many  who  occupied  high  places  in 
tbe  church,  be  became  an  ardent  philosopher — tbe 
current  term  for  atheist — -but  bis  ardor,  bis  princi¬ 
ples,  and  bis  activities  in  tbe  cause,  all  failed  to 
give  bim  consideration  and  influence  in  tbe  revolu¬ 
tion.  It  was  bis  lot  to  waste  himself  in  obscurity, 
while  an  increasing  family  was  growing  up  around 
bim.  When  be  looked  upon  bis  five  children,  be 
felt  more  acutely  tbe  presence  of  poverty,  and 
grew  more  and  more  dissatisfied  with  himself. 
While  several  of  bis  children  were  still  young,  tbe 
wife  of  M.  de  Corday  died,  and  left  bim  still  to 
struggle  with  tbe  unfavoring  elements. 

After  tbe  death  of  her  mother,  Charlotte  and 
her  sisters  lived  for  several  years  on  their  bttle 
estate,  without  much  care  or  instruction  on  tbe 


340  True  Stories  from  History. 

part  of  their  sole  protector.  Like  the  other  young 
girls  of  Normandy,  they  were  employed  in  culti¬ 
vating  the  garden,  and  in  the  harder  and  ruder 
occupations  of  farming.  At  length,  necessity  com¬ 
pelled  the  father  to  separate  from  his  daughters, 
who  were  sent  to  a  monastery  in  Caen,  which  was 
presided  over  by  Madame  Belzunce.  This  estab¬ 
lishment  was  built  in  the  year  1066,  by  Matilda, 
the  wife  of  William  the  Conqueror.  Being  unoc¬ 
cupied  and  neglected  for  a  long  time,  it  fell  into 
ruins,  but  in  1730  it  was  restored  in  all  its  original 
magnificence,  and  is  now  one  of  the  finest  public 
buildings  in  the  city  of  Caen. 

When  Charlotte  entered  upon  this  new  life  she 
was  in  her  fourteenth  year.  These  convents  were 
then  really  Christian  houses,  in  which  the  women 
lived  apart  from  the  world,  but  yet  not  cut  off 
from  the  knowledge  of  what  was  going  on,  or  even 
from  sharing  in  the  affairs  of  life,  if  they  chose. 
Here  Charlotte  was  employed  in  the  usual  duties  of 
monastic  life,  sharing  in  the  enjoyment  of  com¬ 
panionship  and  friendship,  and  cultivating  her 


Charlotte  Corday.  341 

mental  and  moral  powers.  She  was  ardent  and  im¬ 
passioned,  and  moved  bj  such  impulses  she  became 
an  enthusiast  in  her  religion.  Tender,  enthusiastic, 
and  imaginative,  she  became  a  model  of  piety,  and 
dreamed  of  ending  her  days  in  this  abode  where 
she  had  found  repose,  friendship,  and  happiness. 

This  dream,  however,  did  not  last.  Her  strong 
feelings,  and  independent  ways  of  thought,  aided 
by  the  sceptical  and  atheistic  influences  which  sur¬ 
rounded  her  on  every  side,  soon  led  her  away  from 
the  simplicity  of  the  Christian  faith,  and  awakened 
those  vague  but  potent  longings  and  anticipations 
which  made  her  rapid  career  so  memorable  and  so 
mournful.  Her  rank,  intelligence  and  beauty, 
made  her  a  favorite  with  the  abbess,  Madame  Bel- 
zunce,  and  she  was  admitted  to  such  social  gather¬ 
ings  as  were  permitted  in  those  times  even  withiu 
the  walls  of  the  convent.  Thus  she  lived  until  she 
was  nineteen,  passing  through  a  gradual  develop¬ 
ment  of  mind  and  person — intelligent,  attractive, 
and  beautiful. 

At  this  time  the  monasteries  and  other  religious 


84:2  True  Stories  from  History. 

houses  were  suppressed,  and  Charlotte  was,  there¬ 
fore,  set  loose  from  her  accustomed  employments 
and  companionship.  Meanwhile,  the  condition  of 
affairs  had  not  at  all  improved  at  home.  Her 
father  was  still  inactive  and  poor.  Her  two 
brothers,  who  had  attached  themselves  to  the  side 
of  Louis  XVI.,  had  emigrated.  One  of  her  sisters 
was  dead,,  and  the  other  had  the  management  of 
her  father’s  household.  Madame  de  Bretteville,  an 
aunt  of  the  young  girl,  residing  at  Caen,  in  com¬ 
parative  poverty  and  obscurity,  offered  to  receive 
Charlotte  into  her  house.  Here  she  became  the 
companion  and  domestic  assistant  of  her  aged  and 
infirm  relative,  exhibiting  her  gratitude  for  the 
protection  which  she  received  by  the  hind  offices 
which  she  paid  her  aunt,  and  the  respect  which 
she  accorded  to  her  and  to  her  opinions.  The 
remnants  of  the  nobility  still  kept  up  their  old 
habits  of  association,  and  there  was  something  of 
the  ancien  regime  still  existing  about  Caen.  Their 
meetings  were  tolerated,  and  they  were  freely 
allowed  to  console  one  another  in  the  misfortunes 


Charlotte  Corday.  348 

which  had  overtaken  them,  and  to  look  forward, 
with  whatever  hope  they  could,  to  brighter  and 
happier  days.  Charlotte  had  no  sympathy  or 
respect  for  these  opinions,  but  her  regard  and  sense 
of  obligation  towards  her  venerable  relative  made 
her  anxious  to  show  an  outward  respect,  while  at 
heart  she  was  a  thorough  revolutionist. 

In  such  quiet  and  seclusion  months  passed 
away,  without  any  occurrence  to  interrupt  the 
tedium  of  life.  Charlotte  employed  her  time  in 
reading  and  reflection,  free  from  restraint.  Her 
opinions  and  studies  were  not  interfered  with  or 
thwarted.  Her  age  and  temperament  inclined  her 
to  the  perusal  of  romances  in  which  she  iound 
scope  and  employment  for  a  lively  imagination, 
while  her  more  serious  studies  and  thoughts  were 
given  to  philosophy  and  history.  The  works  oi 
Rousseau,  of  Raynal  and  Plutarch,  were  her  con¬ 
stant  companions.  Y et  while  her  imagination  was 
thus  warmed  by  solitude  and  by  the  peculiar  cast 
of  her  studies,  she  preserved  her  purity  of  mind 
and  maintained  the  strictest  propriety  of  conduct. 


S44  True  Stories  from  History. 


It  -was  a  necessity  of  her  nature  to  love  and  to  be 
loved,  and  while  she  often  inspired  the  passion, 
and  was  herself  moved  by  its  first  impulses,  yet 
her  circumstances  of  dependance  and  poverty,  and 
her  modesty  and  reserve,  kept  her  from  all  demon- 
strations_  of  partiality  and  affection,  and  she  was 
regarded  by  her  few  companions  as  cold  and  un- 
impressible.  Her  love  thus  restrained  and  re¬ 
buked,  transferred  itself  to  a  new  ideal,  and  be^- 
came  a  vague,  yet  sublime  devotion  to  patriotism. 
The  deep  affections  of  her  heart  which  she  would 
have  poured  out  upon  some  individual— -had  her 
circumstances  been  otherwise — were  now  concen¬ 
trated,  with  intense  ardor,  upon  her  country,  and 
she  conceived  the  strange  purpose  of  sacrificing 
her  life  for  the  public  good.  This  single  idea  pos¬ 
sessed  her  mind  and  occupied  her  thoughts  and 
shaped  all  her  plans.  She  was  familiar  with  the 
story  of  the  sufferings  of  her  countrymen — the 
persecutions  and  proscriptions  which  had  driven 
out  •  the  Girondists  from  Paris,  and  the  merciless 
tyranny  Marat  and  his  faction  were  exercising- 


Charlotte  Corday. 


.  345 


She  felt  as  if  all  these  blows  directed  against  her 
country  were  concentrated  in  her  own  stricken 
heart,  touching  her  with  feelings  of  anguish  and 
despair,  and  at  the  same  time,  inspiring  her  with 
courage  and  daring.  She  foresaw  the  ruin  of 
France — she  followed,  with  her  eye,  the  victims 
whom  the  tyrant  was  crowding  upon  the  bloody 
scaffold — she  discerned  the  tyrant  himself — she 
resolved  to  be  avenged  upon  the  one  and  to 
punish  the  other,  in  order  that  she  might  save  her 
bleeding  land.  She  pondered  for  many  days  over 
the  vague  determination  of  her  heart,  without 
clearly  resolving  on  what  deed  her  country  re¬ 
quired  at  her  hands,  which  link  of  crime  it  was 
most  urgent  to  cut  through.  She  considered  all 
the  circumstances  of  the  times,  all  the  actors  in  the 
drama  then  going  on,  in  order  that  her  courage 
might  not  be  fruitless,  nor  her  blood  spilled  in 
vain. 

Charlotte  Corday  had  now  reached  her  twenty- 
fourth  year.  She  was  tall  and  finely  formed,  and 
possessed  a  natural  grace  and  dignity  which  dis- 


346  True  Stories  from  History. 

played  itself  in  all  her  steps  and  actions.  Her 
complexion,  while  it  exhibited  the  deeper  and 
warmer  tints  of  the  south,  was  lighted  up  and 
beautified  with  the  clearer  color  of  the  north,  and 
her  projecting  chin,  divided  by  a  deep  dimple, 
gave  to  the  lower  part  of  her  face  a  character  of 
resolution  and  firmness  which  contrasted  with  the 
perfectly  feminine  contour  of  her  lovely  face.  Her 
hair  was  of  peculiar  richness  and  beauty.  When 
fastened  around  her  head,  or  arranged  in  clusters 
on  each  side  of  her  brows,  it  seemed  black,  while 
the  ends  of  the  tresses,  under  a  clear  light,  were  of 
a  deep  and  lustrous  gold-color.  Her  eyes,  too,  were 
of  a  color  variable  like  the  wave  which  borrows 
its  tint  from  the  shadow  or  the  light — blue  when 
she  reflected,  almost  black  when  lighted  up  with 
emotion.  Long,  black  eyelashes  gave  the  appear¬ 
ance  of  depth  and  earnestness  to  the  glance  of  her 
large  eyes.  Her  mouth  was  Grecian,  with,  well- 
defined  lips,  whose  expression,  fluctuating  between 
tenderness  and  severity,  seemed  formed  equally  to 
breathe  of  love  and  happiness,  or  of  patriotism 


Charlotte  Corday.  347 

and  heroic  devotion.  Her  nose  was  well  formed, 
and  her  firm  oval  cheeks  had  all  the  freshness  of 
youth  and  health.  Her  skin  was  of  that  delicate 
and  transparent  healthiness  through  which  the 
mantling  blush  is  seen  suddenly.  Her  chest  was 
wide,  and  somewhat  thin,  her  arms  full  and  mus¬ 
cular,  her  hands  long  and  her  fingers  taper.  Her 
voice  was  of  peculiar  richness — a  living  echo  of 
the  soul  within.  Those  who  knew  her  spoke  of 
her  voice,  years  after  her  death — as  of  a  strange 
and  unforgotten  music  ineffaceably  imprinted  on 
the  memory — notes  so  sonorous  and  deep  that  to 
hear  was  even  more  than  to  see  her,  and  that  her 
voice  formed  a  portion  of  her  beauty.  Her  dress, 
conformable  to  her  humble  fortune  and  the  retire¬ 
ment  in  which  she  dwelt,  was  simple  and  slightly 
characteristic.  She  is  described  as  being  attired  in 
a  gown  of  dark  cloth,  cut  like  a  riding-habit,  with 
a  gray  felt  hat  turned  up  at  the  sides  with  black 
riband,  and  similar  in  fashion  to  those  generally 
worn  by  women  of  rank,  at  that  period. 


XI Y. 


Charlotte  Cmtotg.— $eatlj  at  fgnrat. 

II /T  LOU  YET,  one  of  the  Girondist  leaders  then 
in  Normandy,  addressed  earnest  proclama¬ 
tions  to  the  people  of  the  south  of  France,  urging 
them  to  fraternize  with  and  aid  the  forces  which 
had  been  enrolled  and  were  then  on  their  way  to 
Paris.  More  than  six  thousand  of  these  forces 
were  assembled  in  the  city  of  Caen,  and  on  Sun¬ 
day,  the  7th  of  July,  they  were  passed  in  review 
before  the  authorities  of  the  department,  and  the 
Girondist  deputies.  Charlotte  Corday  was  present, 
in  a  balcony,  at  this  review,  and  saw  the  troops 
depart. 

Among  these  volunteers  was  a  young  man 
named  Franquelin,  who  was  ardently  attached  to 
Mademoiselle  Corday,  and  with  whom  he  carried 
on  a  correspondence.  It  is  said  that  she  had  not 


Charlotte  Cord ay. 


349 


been  able  to  remain  insensible  to  this  attachment, 
and  had  given  her  portrait  to  the  young  soldier, 
permitting  him  to  love  her,  at  least  through  her 
image.  But  these  affections  she  sacrificed  to  a 
purpose  still  more  dear  to  her.  M.  de  Franque- 
lin,  borne  away  by  the  general  impulse  of  patriot¬ 
ism,  and  sure  of  obtaining  the  approbation  of  her 
whom  he  loved,  armed  himself  in  the  cause  of  lib¬ 
erty,  and  joined  the  troops  at  Caen.  Here  they 
parted.  After  the  condemnation  and  execution 
of  Charlotte,  he  returned  to  Normandy,  and  there, 
alone  with  his  mother,  he  lingered  for  some 
months,  as  if  stricken  with  the  same  blow  which 
had  taken  her  life,  and  died,  requesting  that  the 
portrait  and  letters  which  he  had  received  from 
her,  might  be  buried  with  him  in  the  secret  and 
sacred  repose  of  his  grave. 

After  the  departure  of  the  volunteers,  Charlotte 
had  but  one  thought  or  purpose,  and  that  was  to 
reach  Paris  before  they  did,  in  the  hope  that  by 
one  decisive  and  terrible  blow  she  might  deliver 
France  from  tyranny,  and  save  their  generous 


350  True  Stories  from  History. 

lives.  The  scaffold  that  was  erected  in  Paris 
threatened  to  be  carried  throughout  the  republic. 
The  power  of  Marat  and  his  factions  could  only 
uphold  itself  by  proscription  and  execution.  It 
was  said  that  the  monster  had  already  prepared 
his  lists,  and  counted  the  number  of  heads  that 
were  to  fall  to  allay  his  suspicions  and  gratify  his 
vengeance.  More  than  three  hundred  thousand 
victims  were  designated  in  the  capital  and  in  the 
provinces,  and  the  very  name  of  Marat  caused  the 
heart  to  shudder  like  the  mention  of  death. 

Charlotte  Corday  formed  the  heroic  resolution 
of  immolating  herself  in  order  to  check  this  effu¬ 
sion  of  blood.  She  kept  her  plans  and  intentions 
a  secret  in  her  own  bosom,  not  only  that  she  might 
not  implicate  others,  but  lest  she  should  be  dis¬ 
suaded  from  her  purpose.  She  sought  such  infor¬ 
mation  as  to  the  state  of  Paris,  and  the  means  by 
which  she  could  execute  her  plans,  as  she  could 
gain  from  the  proscribed  deputies.  She  obtained 
from  Barbaroux  a  letter  for  Duperret,  one  of  the 
Girondists  in  Paris  who  had  not  been  included  in 


Charlotte  Cord  at.  351 

the  first  proscription,  under  tlie  pretence  that  she 
had  claims  to  present  to  the  government  in  favor 
of  her  friend  Mademoiselle  de  Forbin  Avho  had 
emigrated,  and  was  suffering  poverty  in  Switzer¬ 
land.  Provided  with  this  letter  and  a  passport 
which  she  had  procured  some  days  before,  she  set 
out  on  the  7th  of  July  for  Argentan,  to  take  a  last 
adieu  of  her  father  and  sister.  She  told  them  she 
was  going  to  England,  to  seek  there  a  refuge  from 
the  misery  and  anarchy  by  which  the  energies  of 
France  were  paralyzed. 

She  embraced  her  father  and  sister,  but  the  tears 
she  shed  were  for  the  past  more  than  for  the  future, 
and  on  the  same  day  she  returned  to  Caen.  To 
her  aunt,  who  was  tenderly  attached  to  her,  she 
told  the  same  story  with  which  she  had  deceived 
her  father— that  she  was  about  to  set  out  for  Eng¬ 
land  where  some  emigrant  friends  had  provided 
her  an  asylum,  and  where  she  hoped  to  find  that 
security  and  tranquillity  which  she  could  not  look 
for  in  her  own  land.  With  this  pretext  she  was 
enabled  to  make  her  arrangements  for  departure, 


352  True  Stories  from  History. 

and  under  it  to  conceal  tlie  sorrow  of  parting  from 
those  who  had  long  been  her  kind  friends  and  pro¬ 
tectors.  Her  last  hours  were  filled  up  with  grate¬ 
ful  and  tender  attentions  towards  her  aunt,  to 
whom  she  owed  such  long  and  generous  hospital¬ 
ity,  and  through  one  of  her  friends  she  made  pro¬ 
vision  for  the  future  comfort  of  the  old  servant 
who  had  taken  care  of  her  in  her  youth.  She  dis¬ 
tributed  among  her  friends  some  little  presents  of 
dresses  and  embroidery,  and  also  her  favorite 
books,  retaining  none  of  them  but  a  volume  of 
Plutarch,  as  if  she  desired  to  retain  to  the  last,  the 
society  of  those  great  men  with  whom  she  had 
lived  for  so  many  years,  and  with  whom  she  wished 
to  die. 

On  the  9th  of  July,  her  preparations  being  com¬ 
pleted,  she  took  a  small  bundle  of  clothing,  very 
early  in  the  morning,  embraced  her  aunt,  telling 
her  she  was  going  out  to  sketch  the  haymakers, 
and  left  the  house,  so  many  years  her  home,  to 
return  no  more.  At  the  foot  of  the  stairs  she  met 
a  child  named  Robert,  whom  she  had  been  accus- 


Charlotte  Cord  ay.  853 

tomed  to  notice,  and  giving  liim  the  sheet  of  draw¬ 
ing-paper  which  she  had  in  her  hand,  said, — “  Here, 
Bobert,  take  this, — be  a  good  boy,  and  kiss  me: 
you  will  never  see  me  again.”  She  embraced  the 
child,  leaving  a  tear  upon  his  cheek — the  last  tear 
shed  upon  the  tlrreshold  of  her  old  home.  She 
then  took  her  way  to  the  diligence,  and  departed 
for  Paris. 

On  her  journej^  to  Paris  there  was  a  young  man, 
one  of  her  travelling  companions,  who  was  so 
much  attracted  by  her  graces,  her  dazzling  youth 
and  beauty,  as  well  as  by  her  modesty  and  intelli¬ 
gence,  that  he  ventured  to  declare  his  respectful 
admiration.  He  begged  her  to  authorize  him  to 
ask  her  hand  of  her  relatives.  She  turned  this 
sudden  love  into  kind  raillery  and  mirth.  She 
promised  the  young  man  to  let  him  know  her 
name,  and  her  disposition  in  regard  to  himself  at  a 
future  period.  She  charmed  her  fellow-travellers 
to  the  end  of  her  journey,  by  such  graces  of  mind 
and  conduct  that  they  all  regretted  to  separate 
from  her. 

28 


354  True  Stories  from  Histort, 

On  the  11th  of  July,  at  noon,  she  reached  Paris, 
and  was  conducted  to  a  hotel  which  had  been  in¬ 
dicated  to  her  at  Caen,  the  Hotel  de  la  Providence. 
The  next  day,  after  a  night  of  profound  repose, 
she  dressed  herself  neatly,  but  simply,  and  went 
out  to  find  the  deputy,  Duperret.  He  was  at  the 
Convention,  and  leaving  her  letter  of  introduction 
with  his  daughters,,  she  promised  to  return  in  the 
evening.  That  day  she  spent  alone,  in  her  cham¬ 
ber  at  the  hotel,  in  reading,  reflection,  and  prayer. 
In  the  evening  she  went  out  again  to  the  house  of 
M.  Duperret,  who  received  her  in  his  drawing¬ 
room,  without  a  witness — his  family  being  at  sup¬ 
per.  She  then  laid  open  to  him  her  pretended 
business,  and  requested  him  to  introduce  her  to 
the  minister  of  the  interior.  This  request  was  but 
a  pretext  on  her  part  to  enable  her  to  gain  such 
information  and  to  make  such  acquaintances  as 
would  facilitate  her  plans.  The  deputy  promised 
to  call  on  her  on  the  morrow  and  introduce  her,  as 
she  requested.  As  she  was  about  to  leave,  she 
turned  to  him  and  said : — “  Permit  me  to.  advise 


Charlotte  Cord  ay. 


355 


you,  citizen  Duperret,  to  quit  the  Convention ; 
you  can  do  no  more  good  there  ;  go  to  Caen,  and 
rejoin  your  colleagues  and  brothers.”  “  My  post 
is  at  Paris  ” — replied  the  Deputy — “  I  will  not 
leave  it.”  “  You  are  in  error,”  said  Charlotte,  in 
a  voice  of  almost  suppliant  appeal.  “  Believe 
me,’’ — she  added, — “  fly,  fly,  before  to-morrow 
night ;  ”  and  she  departed  without  awaiting  an 
answer. 

That  same  evening  a  decree  passed  the  Conven¬ 
tion,  ordering  seals  to  be  put  on  the  papers  and 
effects  of  Duperret,  and  some  other  suspected  dep¬ 
uties,  but  this  did  not  prevent  his  fulfilling  his  en¬ 
gagement  to  go  with  Charlotte  to  the  minister  of 
the  interior.  He,  however,  could  not  grant  her  an 
audience  until  evening,  and  as  she  was  not  fur¬ 
nished  with  authority  from  Mademoiselle  de  For- 
bin  to  act  in  her  name,  Duperret,  feeling  his  own 
position  insecure,  advised  her  to  abandon  the 
business.  As  she  had  already  accomplished  the 
purpose  of  her  pretext,  she  acquiesced,  and  they 
parted  at  the  door  of  her  hotel.  Instead  of  enter- 


356  True  Stories  from  History. 

ing,  however,  she  proceeded  to  inquire  the  way  to 
the  Palais  Koyal.  Here  she  entered  the  shop  of  a 
cutler,  selected  a  poignard,  purchased  it,  and  re¬ 
turning  to  the  garden  of  the  palace,  seated  herself 
for  a  while  on  one  of  the  benches. 

It  was  her  desire  to  give  to  the  act  which  she 
was  about  to  commit,  all  the  impressiveness  possi¬ 
ble,  and  her  first  purpose  had  been  to  approach 
Marat  at  the  great  ceremony  of  the  Federation  on 
the  14th  of  July,  and  to  sacrifice  him  publicly  in 
the  Champ-de-Mars.  But  the  adjournment  of  that 
ceremony  prevented  the  accomplishment  of  this 
purpose.  She  then  determined  to  seek  her  victim 
in  the  Convention,  while  he  was  surrounded  by 
his  friends  and  admirers.  She  hoped  that,  in  this 
case,  she  herself  would  be  torn  in  pieces  by  his 
friends,  in  their  first  fury,  and  so  she  would  be 
spared  the  more  lingering  torments  of  a  trial  and 
public  execution.  But  in  this,  too,  she  was  disap¬ 
pointed.  Marat  was  ill,  and  she  had  learned  that 
he  would  not  again  take  his  place  in  the  Conven¬ 
tion.  She  must  seek  him  in  his  own  lodgings, 


Charlotte  Cord  at.  357 

aucl  by  some  cunning  pretext  gain  access  to  him 
there. 

She,  therefore,  returned  to  her  room  and  wrote 
him  a  note  which  she  sent  to  his  house.  “  I  have 
just  arrived  from  Caen” — she  wrote.  “  Your  love 
of  country  makes  me  presume  that  you  will  be 
pleased  to  hear  of  the  events  which  are  transpiring 
in  that  portion  of  the  republic.  I  shall  present 
myself  at  your  abode  about  one  o’clock.  Have 
the  goodness  to  receive  me,  and  grant  me  a  mo¬ 
ment’s  conversation.  I  will  put  you  in  a  position 
to  be  of  great  service  to  France.” 

At  the  appointed  hour  Charlotte  presented  her¬ 
self  at  his  door,  but  could  not  be  admitted.  She 
then  left  with  the  portress  a  second  note,  as 
follows : — 

“I  wrote  to  you  this  morning,  Marat;  did  you 
receive  my  letter?  I  cannot  believe  it,  as  they 
refuse  my  admittance  to  you.  I  hope  that  to¬ 
morrow  you  will  grant  me  the  interview  I  request. 
I  repeat  that  I  am  just  arrived  from  Caen,  and 
have  secrets  to  disclose  to  you  most  important  for 


358  True  Stories  from  History. 

the  safety  of  the  republic.  Besides,  I  am  perse¬ 
cuted  for  the  cause  of  liberty  ;  I  am  unhappy,  and 
that  I  am  so  should  give  me  a  claim  on  your 
patriotism.” 

At  seven  o’clock  in  the  evening,  having  dressed 
herself  with  more  than  usual  care,  in  order  to  at¬ 
tract  the  favorable  attention  of  his  household, 
Charlotte  knocked  at  the  door  of  his  lodgings. 
She  was  perfectly  calm  and  self-possessed.  No 
paleness,  no  wildness  of  her  eye,  no  tremulousness 
of  voice,  no  hurry  or  agitation  indicated  the  fatal 
errand  on  which  she  had  come  forth. 

Marat  occupied  rooms  on  the  first  floor.  He 
lived  with  a  woman  called  Albertine  Marat,  whose 
name  was  originally  Catherine  Evrard,  and  whom 
he  had  taken  for  his  wife  after  the  example  of 
Rousseau,  but  without  a  formal  marriage.  A  sin¬ 
gle  servant  was  employed  to  assist  in  the  domestic 
duties  of  the  establishment. 

Marat’s  apartments  comprised  an  ante-chamber 
and  a  writing-room,  a  dining-room,  bed-chamber 
and  bath-room.  These  rooms  were  scantily  and 


Charlotte  Corday. 


§59 


-meanly  furnished,  and  were  encumbered  with  a' 
few  books,  and  numberless  pamphlets  and  news¬ 
papers,  many  of  them  wet  from  the  press,  which 
several  women  were  employed  in  folding  and  ad¬ 
dressing.  Everything  was  in  disorder  and  confu¬ 
sion,  and  indicative  of  the  occupation  and  hurry 
of  the  friend  of  the  people. 

Notwithstanding  his  illness  Marat  did  not  relax 
his  incessant  activity.  A  lingering  disease  was 
gradually,  but  surely,  wearing  out  his  life,  and 
yet  he  taxed  his  brain,  and  plied  his  pen  without 
ceasing.  Knowing  that  death  was  steadily  draw¬ 
ing  nigh,  with  almost  audible  footsteps,  he  re¬ 
doubled  his  exertions,  and  furnished  lists  for  pro¬ 
scription  and  execution,  as  if  hastening  to  send  as 
many  victims  as  possible  before  him  as  heralds  of 
his  own  coming.  He  was  continually  in  dread 
of  assassination,  and  all  access  of  those  not  in  his 
employ,  or  known  to  be  his  friends,  was  strictly 
forbidden. 

Mademoiselle  de  Corday  was  not  aware  of  these 
circumstances,  though  she  expected  to  find  diffi- 


S60  True  Stories  from  History. 


culty  in  gaining  His  presence.  When  she  reached 
3iis  house,  the  day  was  closing,  and  in  that  quar¬ 
ter,  the  narrow  streets  and  the  lofty  buildings 
made  it  already  dark  without  With  difficulty 
she  was  able  to  enter  the  courtyard,  but  in  spite 
of  the  opposition  of  the  portress  she  succeeded,  and 
began  to  ascend  the  stairs.  Hearing  the  noise  of 
the  altercation  without,  Albertine  opened  the  door, 
but  refused  to  allow  a  stranger  to  enter.  The 
sound  of  their  voices  reached  the  ear  of  Marat, 
who  understood,  from  the  few  words  which  he 
could  catch,  that  this  was  the  person  from  whom 
he  had  received  the  two  notes  during  the  day,  and 
he  imperatively  ordered  her  to  be  admitted. 

The  room  into  which  the  suspicious  and  sullen 
Albertine  introduced  Charlotte,  was  dimly  lighted, 
being  the  small  closet  which  was  used  for  a 
bathing-room.  Here,  in  his  bath,  lay  Marat,  his 
matted  hair  wrapped  in  a  dirty  handkerchief — 
with  hollow  and  blood-shot  eyes,  receding  fore¬ 
head,  prominent  cheek-bones,  wide  and  sneering 
mouth,  'livid  skin,  and  shrunken  limbs,  Charlotte 


Charlotte  Corday. 


361 


stood  close  by  the  side  of  his  bath,  and  waited  for 
him  to  ask  about  the  state  of  affairs  in  Normandy. 
To  his  questions  she  replied  briefly,  and  in  such  a 
way  as  not  to  awaken  his  suspicions.  He  then  in¬ 
quired  the  name  of  the  deputies  who  had  taken 
refuge  in  Normandy,  and  wrote  them  down,  as 
she  repeated  them.  When  the  list  was  complete, 
he  added,  triumphantly, — “Well,  before  they  are 
a  week  older,  they  shall  be  guillotined.” 

These  words  were  enough  to  seal  his  fate.  She 
drew  her  knife  from  her  bosom,  and,  with  more 
than  human  force,  she  plunged  it  to  the  hilt  in  his 
heart.  “Help!  help!”  cried  Marat,  and  expired. 
With  his  last  cry  his  miserable,  cowardly  and 
guilty  soul  had  fled. 

At  this  cry  Albertine,  the  maid-servant,  and 
Laurent  Basse,  the  messenger,  rushed  into  the 
apartment,  and  caught  Marat’s  sinking  head  in 
their  arms.  Charlotte,  as  if  stupefied  with  terror 
for  her  crime,  shrunk  behind  the  curtain  of  the 
window,  where  she  was  discovered  by  the  man, 
Laurent,  who  seized  a  chair  and  felled  her  to  the 


862  True  Stories  from  History. 


floor,  where  the  woman,  Albertine,  in  her  rage, 
trampled  her  under  her  feet.  The  alarm  soon 
spread,  and  the  honse,  the  court,  and  the  street 
were  speedily  filled  by  a  crowd  who  stormed  and 
raged,  and  demanded  that  the  assassin  be  thrown 
out  to  them,  that  they  might  be  avenged. 

Charlotte  was  seized  and  held  by  two  soldiers 
until  cords  could  be  brought  to  secure  her  from 
escape.  She  calmly  awaited  the  fate  which  might 
overtake  her,  and  except  a  feeling  of  compassion 
for  the  grief  and  sufferings  of  Marat’s  mistress, 
and  a  bitter  smile  of  contempt  for  the  crowd  of 
his  friends,  no  unusual  emotion  was  visible  upon 
her  face.^  “Poor  people,”  she  said,  “you  desire 
my  death,  while  you  owe  me  an  altar  for  having 
freed  you  from  a  monster.  Cast  me  to  that  infu¬ 
riate  mob,”  she  said  to  the  soldiers  who  guarded 
her  with  their  bayonets;  “since  they  regret  him, 
they  are  worthy  to  be  my  executioners.” 

It  was  soon  known  throughout  the  city,  and  in 
the  Convention,  that  Marat  had  been  murdered. 
All  Paris  seemed  struck  with  astonishment  and 


Charlotte  Corday.  363 

alarm  on  hearing  of  this  deed.  Henriot,  the  Com¬ 
mandant  of  the  National  Guard,  entered  the  Con¬ 
vention,  exclaiming :  “  Tremble,  all  of  you,  Marat 
has  been  assassinated  by  a  young  girl  who  rejoices 
at  the  blow  she  has  struck.” 

Charlotte  was  removed  to  the  dining-room, 
where  she  was  interrogated  by  the  Commissary  of 
the  Section,  and  the  joroces  verbal  of  the  murder 
was  drawn'  up.  She  was  then  ordered  to  be  con¬ 
veyed  to  the  Abbaye,  the  nearest  prison.  She 
was,  previously  to  her  removal,  searched,  and  in 
her  pockets  were  found  the  key  of  her  trunk, 
some  money,  and  some  implements  of  needlework, 
a  gold  watch  and  her  passport,  and  beneath  her 
neckerchief  the  sheath  of  the  knife  with  which 
she  had  stabbed  Marat.  On  her  examination  she 
was  asked  and  answered  the  following  questions: 

“  Do  you  recognize  this  knife? ” 

“  Yes.” 

“  What  led  you  to  this  crime  ?  ” 

“  I  saw  civil  war  ready  to  rend  France  to 
atoms;  persuaded  that  Marat  was  the  principal 


864  True  Stories  from  History. 

cause  of  the  perils  and  calamities  of  the  land, 
I  have  sacrificed  my  life  for  his  to  save  my 
country.” 

“Mention  the  persons  who  urged  you  to  this 
detestable  crime,  which  you  could  not  have  con¬ 
ceived  of  yourself.” 

“No  one  knew  of  my  intention.  I  deceived  my 
aunt,  with  whom  I  lived,  as  to  the  object  of  my 
journey/  I  deceived  my  father  similarly.  Few 
persons  visit  my  relations,  and  no  one  could,  have 
had  the  slightest  suspicion  of  my  idea.” 

“  Hid  you  not  quit  the  city  of  Caen  with  the 
decided  resolution  of  assassinating  Marat  ?  ” 

“  That  was  my  sole  motive  in  quitting  that 
city.” 

“Where  did  you  procure  the  weapon?  What 
persons  have  you  seen  in  Paris  ?  What  have  you 
done  since  Thursday,  the  day  of  your  arrival?  ” 

To  these  questions  she  answered  with  the  ut¬ 
most  sincerity,  detailing  every  particular  as  to  her 
arrival  in  Paris,  and  what  she  had  done  since. 

“Did  you  not  attempt  to  escape  after  the  murder?” 


Charlotte  Corday. 


365 


“  I  should  have  gone  out  at  the  door  if  I  had  not 
been  prevented.” 

“  Are  you  a  single  woman  ?  ” 

“I  am.” 

“ Have  you  never  had  a  lover? ” 

“  Never.” 

She  was  then  confined  in  a  cell,  and  guarded  by 
two  gens  d'armes  during  the  night.  From  the 
Abbaye  she  was  removed  to  the  Conciergerie. 
Nere  she  was  allowed  the  indulgence  of  paper, 
pens,  and  solitude,  and  she  wrote  to  Barbaroux, 
and  also  to  her  father.  In  her  letter  to  the  former, 
she  detailed  all  the  events  that  had  transpired  since 
leaving  Caen.  In  her  letter  to  her  father  she  took 
a  tender  but  heroic  farewell  of  him  and  of  her  sis¬ 
ter.  “  Adieu,  I  pray  you  to  forget  me,  or  rather, 
to  rejoice  at  my  fate, — the  cause  is  noble.” 

The  next  day,  at  eight  in  the  morning,  she  was 
conducted,  under  a  guard,  to  the  revolutionary  tri¬ 
bunal.  The  hour  of  the  trial  being  known  in  Paris, 
a  large  crowd  was  drawn  together  to  witness  it, 
and  to  gratify  their  interest  and  curiosity  by  see- 


366  True  Stories  from  History. 

ing  the  heroine.  When  she  first  appeared,  a  mur¬ 
mur,  as  of  horror  and  malediction,  was  heard,  but 
her  dazzling  beauty,  her  modesty,  her  firmness 
and  calm  bearing,  even  under  the  eyes  of  so  great 
a  crowd,  soon  changed  this  murmur  to  a  feeling  of 
pity,  of  interest  and  admiration.  She  was  seated 
upon  the  bench  of  the  accused,  and  M.  Chauveau 
Lagarde,  afterwards  illustrious  for  the  defence  of 
the  Queen,  was  assigned  her  as  counsel.  The  evi¬ 
dence  of  the  deed  was  gone  over,  and  her  confess¬ 
ions,  in  which  she  bravely  avowed  the  crime,  and 
the  motives  which  led  to  it,  were  received.  The 
counsel  for  the  prosecution  summed  up  the  evi¬ 
dence,  and  demanded  the  sentence  of  death. 

Lagarde,  her  defender,  arose  and  said  : — “  The 
accused  confesses  her  crime,  she  avows  its  long 
premeditation,  and  gives  the  most  overwhelming 
details.  Citizens,  this  is  her  whole  defence.”  He 
then  urged  that  this  undisturbed  calm  and  entire 
forgetfulness  of  self,  even  in  the  presence  of  death, 
was  not  natural,  that  it  was  the  result  of  an  excite¬ 
ment  which  amounted  to  insanity.  “  It  is  for  you 


Charlotte  Corday.  36T 

to  decide,”  added  he,  “what  weight  so  stem  a 
fanaticism  should  have  in  the  balance  of  justice.  I 
leave  all  to  jour  consciences.” 

The  jury  unanimously  gave  their  verdict  for  her 
death,  and  she  heard  her  sentence  with  the  same 
calmness  as  she  had  manifested  throughout.  When 
asked  if  she  had  anything  to  say  as  to  the  punish¬ 
ment  which  was  awarded,  she  turned  to  her  coun¬ 
sel,  and  said  to  him: — “Monsieur,  you  have  de¬ 
fended  me  as  I  wished  to  be  defended :  I  thank 
you:  I  owe  you  a  proof  of  my  gratitude  and 
esteem,  and  I  offer  you  one  worthy  of  you.  The 
judges  have  just  pronounced  my  property  confis¬ 
cated  ;  I  owe  something  in  the  prison,  and  I  be¬ 
queath  to  you  the  payment  of  this  debt.” 

On  her  return  to  the  prison,  an  artist,  M.  Hauer, 
who  had  attempted  to  sketch  her  likeness  during 
the  trial,  came,  at  her  request,  to  finish  it.  She 
gave  him  a  lock  of  her  long  fair  hair,  as  a  token 
of  his  kindness  and  her  gratitude.  The  rest  of  her 
hair,  which  the  executioner  had  cut  off,  she  gave  to 
Madame  "Richard,  the  wife  of  the  keeper  of  the 


368  True  Stories  from  History. 


Conciergerie,  and  haying  put  on  the  red  dress  of 
the  condemned,  she  mounted  the  fatal  cart,  and  in 
the  midst  of  a  terrible  storm  of  lightning  and  rain, 
was  driven  to  the  scaffold. 

Before  she  reached  the  guillotine  the  storm 
passed  away,  and  the  sun  shone  out  in  the  clear 
sky.  She  mounted  the  scaffold  with  as  light  and 
firm  a  step  as  her  long  dress  and  pinioned  arms 
permitted,  while  her  complexion,  heightened  by 
the  color  of  her  dress,  seemed  of  unearthly  bril¬ 
liancy.  She  placed  herself  under  the  fatal  axe, 
and  as  the  heavy  blade  fell,  her  head  rolled  upon 
the  scaffold.  Legros,  one  of  the  executioners, 
raised  it  in  his  hand,  and  struck  it  on  the  cheek- 
It  is  said  that  a  deep  crimson  suffusion  overspread 
the  face,  as  if  dignity  and  modesty  had  lasted  for 
an  instant  longer  even  than  life. 

Such  was  the  end  of  the  heroine  of  Caen,  who 
freely  offered  up  her  life  for  the  good  of  her  coun¬ 
try,  and  paid  the  penalty  of  her  own  blood  for  the 
great  crime  of  taking  the  life  of  the  tjwant. 


* 


a 


Date  Due 


Form  335— 40M— 6-40 

944  D413  54  3A 

De  Normand  _ 

Two  eras  of  France. _ 


DATE 


ISSUED  TO 


944 


D413 


543A 


